On the Other Side
by HoloGhost
Summary: AU. An apparition follows Alfred around, demanding him of something Alfred has no idea about. The two search for a solution to their dilemma, but find something else entirely different.
1. The Summoning

Edited: Nov 1, 2012

© Hidekaz Himaruya

* * *

><p>Nobody talked as Alfred F. Jones, Mathias Kohler, and Gilbert Beilschmidt walked through an unused dirt path, in the middle of nowhere, on their way to the old ruined church Alfred and his dad found during one of their camping trips. The place didn't change much, Alfred noticed. The rotting trees were still there, getting thinker as the hill goes higher, hiding the old church from view. And the place was still as deserted as it was eight years ago.<p>

The three had their hands tucked away in different places: Alfred's hands were stuffed in the pocket of his bomber jacket, Mathias' were comfortably roasting under his arm pits, and Gilbert's were shoved into the front pockets of his paint-stained pants. Their hands weren't really that cold, well, at least Alfred's weren't. It was more like a sign of nerves; a habit that he and Gilbert had fallen into after hanging out with Mathias.

"So," Mathias said as he got up from the rock he was resting on. "Why do we have to come all the way out here and climb this stupid hill again? Why can't we just do whatever it is you're planning to do in your room, while eating chips and watching TV?"

"Well," Alfred began, not sure how to explain.

Several steps behind, Alfred heard Gilbert scoff. "You can't answer, can you? I bet it's just a spur of the moment idea."

"Tsk. Whatever." Alfred turned away from them, hefting his small duffel up his shoulder and picking up his pace. To be honest, Gilbert was right. He didn't plan on this trip. When he got the idea of his experiment, the old church just popped into his mind. It just seemed the right place to be. Alfred patted his bag, checking if the book his grandpa gave to him was still there. And for a second, he doubted if this was even a good idea. Gilbert seemed to have the same thoughts.

"You're really going to do this?" he asked. Alfred looked over his shoulder and saw Gilbert looking back the way they came from.

"We're here. Might as well go through with it."

_Right. It'd be a waste if we just go home. _Alfred patted Mathias' shoulder. "Right you are, Kohler. What's up Gilbert? Scared or something?"

"Yeah right. Let's get this over with so I we can get back to civilization."

With a laugh, Alfred led the way to the crumbling church. They stared at it for a while, wondering how long it would take before the whole thing comes down. With the way vines and some bushes clung to its walls, Alfred guessed ten more years, that is if there'll be lots of rain and storm. The three walked around the church to get to the graveyard, where they walked aimlessly for a while before Alfred found a good spot; a raised rectangular tomb. Actually, Alfred wasn't sure if it was a tomb since there were no engravings on it.

While Gilbert and Mathias were busy removing dead vines that clung to their shoelaces, Alfred hefted the bag onto the tomb and brought out the heavy ancient book, careful not to accidentally rip the covers off. Alfred made the mistake of taking it too close to his nose, making him sneeze.

"Bless you," Mathias and Gilbert said from their seat on each end of the tomb. Mathias had his legs folded and was eagerly watching Alfred carefully flipping the pages of the book, while Gilbert was lying back with his arm under his head and his legs dangling over the side.

"Thanks," Alfred mumbled as he began to copy the picture on the page onto the tomb's top. With a felt pen, he drew a circle within a bigger circle. Then he added a double lined heptagon inside the smaller circle. And then he drew a line connecting every other point of the heptagon, so that there were infinite triangles inside it. In the middle of the whole figure, Alfred drew another heptagon with a star inside it. Alfred moved back to look at his handiwork.

"Are you done?"

The circle wasn't perfect, but it was enough for Alfred. He would have Gilbert…

"Mat, I don't think he heard you. I think he forgot that we're here."

…draw the thing, but the guy was being lazy.

Alfred hunched over his work again to add the little details; lines that divided the bigger heptagon, squiggles on the smaller one, and semi circles in the outer circle. _Always with the circles._

"Douchebag," Gil muttered.

Alfred laughed. "Yes, Gilbo, I can hear you."

"Are you done then?" Mat piped up, lifting his head from his chin and straightening his back. "That's it? Where's the thunder and lightning?"

Alfred frowned. This was the tricky part. "There's one last thing," he began. "But don't freak out." He looked at Mathias, who had an 'okaaay' look on his face, then to Gilbert. "Especially you, Gilbert."

Gilbert sat up, and Alfred saw the frown on his face deepen. But he didn't say anything. With a breath, Alfred brought out the small pocket knife his grandfather gave to him when he turned sixteen. Alfred would've preferred a video game, but he valued the knife all the same. Gilbert and Mathias didn't think so highly of it though.

"You've got to be kidding! You said this isn't some occult shit!" Gilbert yelled, literally jumping off the tomb.

"What? It's just a drop of blood."

Gilbert opened his mouth to answer, but whatever he was going to say was cut off by Mathias.

"Dude," he said, mussing his already wild hair, "Where did you even get this from?" Mathias took the book and flipped through the pages. "Do you understand what it says? Do you even know what you're doing?"

"Look, I got the book from my granddad, okay?"

"He gives you weird stuff."

"He does. My point is, he found it on one of their excavation sites. How could I understand what it says? Everything looks like chicken scratches to me. But my granddad explained this one." He gestured at his drawings. "He said it was some sort of portal. Probably to talk to the dead. Stuff like that."

"What, you want to talk to your dead dog that much?"

Alfred glared at Gilbert. "Hey! Tony wasn't just a dog. He was my best friend!"

"Whatever. Just put the knife in the bag and let's go home."

"I'm with Gilbert on this."

Alfred glared at Matthias. He usually takes Allred's side even if he didn't agree with him just to piss Gilbert. _He _must_ be serious about this. _Before the other two could say something else, Alfred drew the knife across the pad of his right index finger and quickly drew a hook – like a question mark with a straight tail - with his blood. The hook was supposed to be drawn inside the inner circle only, but because Gilbert pulled Alfred aside, the tail got dragged onto the outer circle.

"Dude!"

"Don't dude me!" Gilbert cursed as he looked overt the blood stained drawing.

"I know," Alfred said, trying to calm his friend. "That as an adult, you feel like it's your responsibility to stop me from doing some stupid shit."

"What responsibility are you talking about? Besides, this is beyond stupid, Alfred! It's weird and it's freaking me out." Alfred moved back as Gilbert shoved his arm to his face. "I'm having fucking goose bumps all over."

"You feel it too?"

Alfred and Gilbert turned on Mathias, who was still on the tomb, sitting like a Buddha statue.

"Feel what?" Alfred asked. _Am I the only one who doesn't feel anything?_ "What are you talking about?"

Mathias' eye narrowed, and he tilted his head. "Hmm." He tilted his head the other way. Then his frown deepened. "Did it get colder?"

Alfred rolled his shoulder. Now that Mathias mentioned it, it did kind of got colder.

"What's that smell?"

"What smell?" Alfred sniffed the air. "I smell nothing."

"Smells like…"

"Smells like?"

Alfred was thrown forward, his knees hitting the ground as something hit his back.

"Vooi!" Gilbert yelled at his ear, laughing as he put all his weight on Alfred's back, while Alfred struggled to hold both of them up..

"Gilbert! Get off me!" Alfred's whines were drowned by the echoes of Mathias' and Gilbert's laughter and by his own heartbeat. "What the fuck was that?"

"Oh, oh. You should've seen your face!" Mathias roared, slapping his knee with one hand; the other pointed at Alfred. "You're the same scaredy cat from middle school!"

Alfred felt his face flush at the memory of a sleep-over gone wrong. "Shut up Mat." Alfred stood up and patted his pants. There was a rip on one knee.

"Aww, little Alffie's gonna cry." Gilbert rubbed his eyes, pretending to wipe his non-existent tears. Mathias, who finally came down from the tomb, was laughing like an idiot.

Alfred sighed. "Fine, fine. I get it, okay? We shouldn't have come here. If something bad happened blah, blah, blah."

Gilbert and Mat finally stopped laughing. Then Gilbert looked back at the vandalized tomb, his expression getting suddenly serious. "Whatever. It's done. Let's just go home."

"Right." Mathias ran ahead of the two. Gilbert followed him, shoving his headphones in his ear.

Alfred sighed again and then shoved his hands back in his pocket. _Fuck. It's really getting cold. _Alfred only got a far for a few steps when a sharp pain shot from his finger to his arm. He quickly took out his right hand and examined his wound. It wasn't bleeding anymore, but there was a vertical cut below it. Alfred was sure that the cut appeared out of nowhere, and that it was getting longer.

"Gilbert?"

The other guy didn't hear him and continued to walk. _Crap._ Alfred turned his attention back to his finger. The line just kept getting longer and longer, it began to branch off. Alfred felt the pain soon after that. He balled his fist, trying to ignore what was happening to his hand. But his heart pounded against his chest, faster and harder each time. _Breathe Alfred. Breathe. _He felt another line slash across his palm, followed by the warmth of his blood.

"Hurry up Alfred!"

Alfred's head snapped back up. Gilbert was already beyond the crumbling stone fence of the church. With a groan, Alfred tied his hand with his handkerchief and hid it inside his pocket before he ran after Gilbert.

"This is gonna be a long ride."

o o o

No one was home when Gilbert dropped Alfred off, which was just great for him. Alfred immediately locked himself in his room, his right hand balled inside his pocket. For some reason, the burn that began in his index finger had spread to his palm, then to his whole hand. Alfred hid his pain from Mathias and Gilbert well during the first half of their ride back to town. But the pain got worse and worse until it finally showed on Alfred's face. Mathias had asked if he was okay. Alfred had lied that he was having a headache.

In the privacy of his room, Alfred watched in horror as the skin on his forearm burst and bled, only to heal quickly leaving bright pink scars. As it went on longer, the pain began to go deeper, under his skin, through flesh and muscle. It was as if flaming burrow grubs had been unleashed in his insides. Again and again, Alfred's arm was carved then hastily patched up. Alfred was on his knees throughout his ordeal, arms pressed tight against his body. Some groans might have escaped from his clenched jaw, but other than that, Alfred endured in silence, resisting the urge to call for the help that he knew he needed. He wouldn't let his family get dragged into this. Whatever 'this' is. Alfred's last thoughts were desperate pleas to make the pain stop, for whatever was tearing his arm apart to stop. As the last patch of skin was raked, the pain vanished, along with Alfred's consciousness.

Alfred found himself lying on the floor the next morning. His alarm clock was shrieking. Alfred reached out an arm to shut it up but paused at the sight of dried blood.

"Not a dream," Alfred whispered shakily. He looked over himself, and saw the blood stains on his arm and shirt, and on the floor. He took his shirt off and ran to the bathroom, meaning to wash himself clean. Just as he turned the tap, a chill licked his spine and forced a cold breath from his lungs. To his surprise, ice covered the edges of the mirror making its way to the center, where a pair of green eyes appeared. Alfred turned around with a scream, and at same time the light bulbs exploded and mirror broke.

Without waiting for another second, Alfred ran out of his room only to bump into his uncle in the hallway.

"Alfred? You didn't go to school? What happened?" Jacques asked.

Alfred looked back to the direction of his room, arms flailing wildly. He tried to speak, but his throat was cold and dry.

"..th..room..somethin'.."

No sound came out after that. In his wild arm gestures, Jacques noticed the gashes in his arm and grabbed it.

"I'll take you to the hospital," Jacques said simply before fetching a jacket for Alfred.

"No, it's fine. It's really fine." Alfred tried to pull his arm back from Jacques, but the doctor just pulled him along to his car.

o o o

Alfred groaned as Jacques stretched out his arm. He'd slept on it last night and the muscles were cramped. Actually, Alfred's whole body was sore. He was having a hard time breathing, much less to sit up straight. Alfred slouched on the hospital bed as his uncle dabbed Betadine on the scratches. He inhaled sharply as his skin stung where the cotton touched.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "I have a choice?"

"No, not really. But I wanted to ask politely." Jacques sighed and put away the green bottle and took a roll of gauze. "Alfred, are you hanging out with little miss Braginsky again?"

"What! No. Of course not. That's in the past. Why d'ya even bring her up?"

"Alright, calm down. I'm just worried you might go back to your old habits."

Alfred pouted. "That's lack of trust, right there. I've changed, you know." Jacques looked up at Alfred behind his brows. "Okay, maybe not. But I'm restraining myself. I've been good."

Jacques snorted. "No fights?"

Alfred shook his head. "Just the home opener on November."

"Cigarettes?"

"I'll get beaten up by Mattie before I get my hands on a stick."

"Weed?"

"That's just ridiculous."

"Any jackass stunts with Gilbert and Matthias?"

"Nothing that will get us in jail," Alfred answered evasively.

Jacques sighed again then fastened the tip of the gauze. He looked at Alfred straight in the eye and said, "Tell me what happened."

Alfred didn't want to lie to his uncle. Not anymore. But what the hell was he supposed to say?

"Well, I don't really know," Alfred began his lie. "I was cleaning the mirror then the light bulbs exploded. The mirror went next."

"I meant, what happened to your arm?"

Alfred shrugged. _Don't make me lie even more, uncle._

Jacques just stared at Alfred for a few more seconds. Alfred could see that his uncle knew something was off.

"Fine," Jacques said suddenly. "I'll drop this matter for now. But.."

Alfred watched the finger his uncle pointed at him.

"…If I see you one day with more than scratches, and you still refuse to talk to me, I'll wring the truth out of you. I have plenty of needles, Alfred, and I'm not afraid to use them."

"Right." Alfred didn't know whether to laugh or nod obediently at his uncle's threat. Either way, he wanted out. "Yeah. I understand. I'll just go now, then." Alfred slid off the bed and made it halfway to the door when Jacques called him.

His uncle shook a pen at him then pleaded, "Don't make me call your parents. I don't want to look more irresponsible that they already think I am."

Alfred tilted his head. "You know, if they think you're irresponsible, why did they let me stay with you?"

Jacques seems just as perplexed as Alfred was. "Well, you wanted to stay with Matthew and Francis, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I do. But still, four immature men living in one house? Either you're not as irresponsible as you believe, or my parents are crazy. See you at home!"

Alfred closed the door behind him softly, and then headed to the elevator. _Thank God he's as carefree as Francis._ Alfred examined his bandaged arm as he waited for the elevator, thinking about what he saw in the mirror, deciding whether he just imagined it or not. But his doubts were erased when he saw a flash of green from the corners of his eyes. Soon after, the temperature dropped and Alfred could see his breath in the air.

_Oh, God. He's right next to me, isn't he?_ With a deep breathe, Alfred turned to his right, where clear green eyes were floating among a human-shaped smoke. Alfred released the breath he'd been holding, its fog joining the ghost's form.

"Hi. I'm Alfred," Alfred introduced himself, his voice shaking a bit. But the ghost or whatever it was, just disappeared. Suddenly, Alfred was on his knees on the ground, sweating like a roasting pig. _Jesus fucking Christ! What the hell was that?_

o o o

It was Wednesday. Alfred lay on his bed, stripped down to his boxers, face buried on the pillow. He had no intention of going to school. If he was going crazy and soon to be sent in a mental hospital, then he'd rather spend the last of his freedom doing nothing at home instead of going to school. Risking his sanity, Alfred lifted his head from the pillow to check his chair. He immediately hid his face. _He's still there! He's still there. Fuck, he's never going to leave! _Alfred thought that maybe, he just needed some sleep and the hallucination would go away. But he was wrong.

Under the pillow, Alfred's phone vibrated again. How many times was it again? Three? Five? Still, Alfred ignored it. He'd been receiving calls and text messages from Mat and Gil and the others since Tuesday, but he never replied any of them. He was already preoccupied by the fact that a ghost was haunting him. Plus, he was trying to resist his urge to make a circle of salt around him, which was starting to look like a bad idea.

Alfred shivered under his sheets. He didn't need to lift his head to know that the ghost came closer to him. Alfred tightened his arm around his pillow, afraid of what might happen to him. Well, he didn't expect to be murdered; if that was the ghost wanted, he'd be dead by now. But what if he gets possessed? Before Alfred's imagination could take over, there was a little whoosh and then the temperature went back to normal. Alfred immediately grabbed his phone from under the pillow, leaped out of his bed and ran down the stairs. _Where's the fucking salt? _

o o o

Alfred went back to school the next day. There was no way he was staying home with the ghost again. Well, the ghost was still following him around, but at least there were other people with him. Alfred felt safer with other people around; even though he knew it really doesn't make a difference.

Alfred took his usual seat at the back of the room and glared at the window, where the smoky figure was perched.

"I'm the only one who can see you?" Alfred got the courage to ask it. But it didn't reply. Alfred let it go and focused on reassuring Mathias that he was A-okay via text. But it was only a few seconds after he sent it that there was a tug on his hair.

"Is this salt in your hair?"

Alfred looked up to see Kiku holding a grain between his fingers. Alfred took it from him and flung it to the window, hoping it'll hit the ghost.

"What salt?"

Kiku smiled. "I heard from Matthew that you were hospitalized. It's good that you're feeling better," he stated.

"He might've exaggerated the story a bit." Alfred waved his phone. "Sorry about worrying you. I was kind of busy."

"Busy? Doing what? Playing video games in your room all day?"

Arms encircled Alfred's neck, and he smelled the faint scent of cinnamon. In the back of his head, Alfred was conscious of the ghost watching him. "Yeah, that too," he replied, leaning his head back against Mattie's stomach and looked up at his cousin. "This isn't your class."

"I just came to check on you."

"I don't need checking." Alfred's phone vibrated, and he quickly picked it up. The message was form Gilbert this time.

_We're eating at your place tonight. Getting a ride with Fran._

"Is there something wrong, Alfred? You're frowning," Kiku asked, concerned.

Alfred punched the keys on his phone, typing out "_Bring some movies."_ before he shook his head in reply. "Nah, it's just some moochers."

Mattie gasped. Alfred raised an eyebrow at his strong reaction. "Gil and Mat are coming over?"

"Yeah. What's up?"

Suddenly, Mattie was fishing for his phone in his pocket, a slightly alarmed look on his face.

"Matthew?" Kiku and Alfred asked simultaneously, but Mattie didn't answer. He just said a quick goodbye and ran out of the room with his phone against his ear, almost knocking into Ms. Singh, who was just entering the room.

Kiku smiled as he went to his seat. "You and your family are strange, Alfred."

"Tell me about it."

Alfred turned his attention to the window, where the faint figure of the ghost shimmered. _This is beyond strange. _Alfred had no doubt in his mind that this had something to do with the summoning he did at the church. But he didn't want to acknowledge it. For some silly reason, Alfred thought that if he just continued to ignore the ghost, it would just move on to haunt someone else.

Alfred mentally shook his head. There was no use thinking about it. For now, he just have to focus on what Singh was blabbering about. He shouldn't be distracted if he wants to get an A in physics. With a supernatural being hovering by his side, staring at him intensely, Alfred found concentrating on the class harder than he thought; especially when the ghost started talking.

_Alfred Jones._

The voice was clear and smooth as crystals, and the tone just as sharp. The back of Alfred's neck tingled. He didn't turn; Alfred stubbornly stared at the board even when the ghost began nearing him.

_Release me at once_.

"What?" Alfred whispered, heart beating rapidly – whether from excitement or fear, he wasn't sure.

_ Don't play a fool, Jones! Speak what you want from me then let me go._

Now, Alfred was just confused. He turned his eyes sideways. The green eyes were inches from him.

_Release the spell now._

"What spell?"

The eyes shrunk into slits and the smoke drew back. _Do you want me to believe that you brought me here just by mere accident? That you opened the gate without being aware of it? Do not lie to me, Jones!_

A gate?

"A portal!"

Dead silence fell upon the class, thirty or so heads turned, eyes rolling and throats grating out a laugh. At the head of the room, Ms. Singh raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?" she asked.

Behind him, he heard Feliks snicker and go 'oooh', which just annoyed Alfred.

"Shut up."

"Mr. Jones,"

"I didn't mean you! I-It it was..."

His naturally loud voice turned to a whisper, "...I...Sorry". Shoulders slumped and face red, Alfred picked up his chair, which fell when he stood up, and slumped down on it.

"We'll talk after class, Mr. Jones" Ms. Singh said then continued on her lecture.

The class turned back to the lesson, the brief entertainment forgotten. But Alfred had his attention on the window.

"This is all your fault," he said as quietly as he could, though the venom in his voice remained strong. "Leave me alone, will ya?"

_I can't. Not until you release me._

Alfred''s hold on his pen tightened. His lips pressed in an exasperated line.

"Like I said before, I don't know what you're talking about," he hissed.

Silently and swiftly, the apparition by the window moved in and thrust his face mere inches away from Alfred's. Clear green eyes glared from ghostly sockets. A long smoky finger came to the air and pointed at Alfred's right forearm where the scar was covered by the jacket's sleeve.

_ Liar,_ the ghost whispered, his anger clear despite the transparency of his face. In a blink of an eye, the apparition dispersed into a cloud of smoke. Its chilling wisps, which made Alfred think of Death, crept to his face. He was frozen in fear as the realization of what he'd done in the old church dawned on him. His fingers dug on his thigh, his hand almost breaking the pen in half. The world was spinning faster and faster. Lungs constricting tighter and tighter. Within, his face dropped to his desk, then his body followed down to the floor, unconscious.

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><p>I hope this is better than the original one.<p>

Thank you for reading!


	2. Admit & Submit

Edited: Nov 07, 2012

© Hidekaz Himaruya

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><p>The small white infirmary buzzed with muffled noises as a cluster of whispering heads hovered over Jones' unconscious frame. Brows were furrowed, chests heaved a sigh.<p>

"What happened to him?" a rowdy albino asked as he pushed two golden heads out of his way. One of them, called, Matthew Williams reproached the new comer: "Please, Gilbert, stop being so rude. And quiet down a bit." Gilbert pursed his lips, nodded his head then asked the same question, this time, in a lower volume.

"He fainted," came the crisp reply of the student Jones was talking to a while back, Kiku Honda, who had been staring at Jones' face, silent. The student scanned the crowd before him, his unreadable gaze landing on each individual in the group – first Gilbert then Matthew, Francis Bonnefoy, and lastly, Ivan Braginski. "He must have overworked himself. He also had a fever, but it had already gone down."

"Overworked?" Francis repeated, incredulous, as he made himself comfortable on one of the empty beds. "Has he decided to do his homework from now on?" Matthew cuffed him on the head.

"Be serious, brother. Don't you even care about him?"

"Of course I do. That's why I'm here right now and not on my date. But, tell me Mattie, have you ever seen him do anything aside from sit around playing his video games?"

"Well," Arthur's wondering eyes flew to Ivan, who spoke for the first time, "I might have pushed him too hard in our basketball practice. He just got of the hospital, right?"

The door clicked, and another boy entered the room only to be greeted by a big collective sigh. "What's going on?"

Kiku leaned to the side to meet his eyes: "Yao, you're back. We were just trying to figure out what made Alfred faint."

"I see." Yao muttered; his face suspiciously blank.

"What do you mean by 'I see'?" Ivan asked just as the warning bell rang. Francis glided down from the bed, tying his hair back with a short white silk ribbon.

"Time to go, darlings!" He announced in a sing song voice. "I better get to the university. We should go together, Gil. You still have one lecture, right? Let's go, Mattie. Al will be fine. He's just tired. He'll be shouting down the halls in no time."

He placed a hand on the taller boy's shoulder, which was quickly covered by Matthew's own hand. The duo slipped away out of the room after giving Jones a quick peck on the forehead. Gilbert followed them, making plans with Francis to visit their home later. Ivan went too, stopping for a moment at the threshold to ask whether or not Kiku and Yao would go to their respective classes.

"It's our spare." Yao answered for both of them.

In a matter of seconds, the two dark-haired students and Jones were the only people in the room. And of course, Arthur, who was floating above their heads, eyes, which narrowed in confusion, still trailing the wake of Jones' friends.

"Why are _they_ all here?" the apparition asked. Alfred being the only person able to hear him, the apparition's question remained unanswered.

"So, did you find what you were looking for?" Kiku was staring at a small wooden cylinder hidden beneath Yao's sleeves. The latter set the object on the bedside table, a smile forming on his face.

"Sharp eyes, as usual."

Working with great gentleness, Yao pulled out Jones' right arm from under the blanket, and then rolled the sleeve of his jacket. Kiku rose from his chair, transferring to Yao's side. Even Arthur moved closer to observe as Yao opened the cylinder, which made both boys cringe, Arthur guessed it was because of the scent.

"It's stronger than I remember," Yao muttered as he scooped the greenish-white cream with two fingers. "But with a wound like this..."

Three pairs of eyes held the image of the red, swollen skin. Although the senior first-aid students had caught a glimpse of the wound once a while ago when they replaced the soiled bandages, they were still taken aback by the sight of it. The wound was ghastly, to say the least. There were cuts here and there, connected by a long thin bump. It was as if a mole rat had dug just below the skin, cracking the surface as it went about to scour for food. These 'tunnels' went all the way through his forearm to the tip of his index finger, creating intersections, following a seemingly random path. Arthur recognized the pattern, though, sketchy as it was: it was the confirmation of his anchorage.

"...this won't be strong enough." Yao finished his sentence then began applying the salve onto Jones' wound. A moan came from the latter's sleeping form, but otherwise, he remained still.

"How did he get this? It's not something you get from broken glass, is it?" Yao asked, with a very perplexed expression on his face. The only answer Kiku had was a shrug. "When he wakes up, I'm going to have to-"

"Better not." Kiku cut Yao's sentence off, shaking his head. "If Alfred said that he got this from the accident, then we should just take his word as the truth."

"What? But-"

"This does not concern us."

"How-"

"I have a feeling that Alfred wouldn't want us snooping in his business. It's best we stay out of this one."

Yao sighed, relenting to Kiku's plans. He went off to fetch a new roll of bandages for Jones' arm, muttering something about Kiku's gut instinct being correct all the time.

"Won't he know that we saw the scars if we changed his bandages?" Yao asked, momentarily stopping from wrapping Alfred's arm.

"As long as you will not tell him what you told me just now, it will be fine."

"You're being a smart-ass," Yao muttered.

"I assume you learned to talk like that from Alfred?"

The two shared a laugh, albeit a shaky one. Their worries about their friend temporarily pushed back from their minds. The bell for the last period rang, and so the two men exited the room, leaving the ointment on the bedside table.

"'I don't know what you're talking about', huh?" Arthur's silent echoic voice reverberated through the room as he repeated Jones' words earlier. His luminous eyes still remained on Alfred's arm, on his mark; a noble owl watching form the hilt of a short sword. His misty form juddered overhead like the raging sky on a stormy night. "You lied to me. You, who swore your loyalty to me!" Arthur's insubstantial hand wrapped around Jones' throat, then squeezed. Jones' blue eyes snapped open.

o o o

It was cold, Alfred noticed. There was a pressure that blocked his ears from all sound. That same pressure wrapped around his chest too; making it hard for him to breath. The sensation reminded Alfred of a time from his childhood. One winter, he had fallen into an icy pond when the thin layer of ice gave in to Alfred's 'astronaut leaps'. Alfred once again felt the fear of being trapped under the ice in darkness, the anxiousness to get out. He had to find the surface, or else…

"Aah!"

Alfred sat up, panting and sniffing. "That was close," he whispered rubbing his throat, which felt scratched and burnt.

"What was?" A voice asked. Another chill raked Alfred's body. He recognized that voice. Alfred looked around him. He was in the school clinic. A white curtain covered his view of the right side of the room; to his left was a seemingly empty stool. But Alfred knew better.

"You were close to dying. Is that what you meant?" the voice asked once more. The ghost's figure slowly formed on the stool. Its figure was hard to tell due to the constantly shifting smoke, but its eyes were unmistakable.

"You're still here?" Alfred snapped. He was angry that the ghost won't leave him alone, and he was scared that it never will.

"You almost died," the ghost deadpanned, "or rather, killed."

"Why are you still here? Leave me alone!"

Alfred's anger was equally met by the ghost's own rage.

"I am here because you brought me here! Or will you still tell me that you know nothing?"

A smoky finger pointed at Alfred's arm, once again. But this time, Alfred didn't deny the accusation. As much as he'd wish it weren't the case, what he did at the old church was real. In his stupid thirst for adventure, he had unknowingly summoned a spirit from who knows where. And now, he had to somehow 'release' that spirit. Only then will the ghost leave him. That much he was sure of.

With a sigh, Alfred looked up at stared at the green eyes. "Fine. What do you want me to do?"

Despite the transparency of its face, Alfred saw the ghost's smug smile. "Alfred F. Jones. That is your name, correct?"

"How-? Never mind. Yeah, that's my name."

"Well then, Jones. You brought me here; therefore, you find a way to send me back."

"Are you saying you don't know what to do?"

"You have to remove my anchorage. That mark on your arm."

"How?"

"I wouldn't know. I wasn't the one who performed the summoning."

The ghost disappeared, leaving Alfred with the urge to rip his hair out of his own scalp.

o o o

That night, Gilbert and Mathias joined Alfred's family in dinner. Gilbert arrived with Francis, while Mathias went straight to the Bonnefoy household after he got Alfred's text. They all sat around the living room, watching Mattie's blue-rays of his and Mathias' favourite show, carrying their plates on their hand or lap instead of eating properly at the table.

After the meal, Mathias, Gilbert and Alfred locked themselves in Alfred's room. They were splayed out on the floor as they watched Captain America in silence. They were way too silent. Gilbert clearly had something to say, but he didn't open his mouth until the television went black.

"Al," Gilbert began.

_Here it come_s.

"Something you want to tell us?"

Alfred just scoffed. "You're the one who wants to say something."

Alfred busied himself with putting the disk back to its cover. He saw Mathias' reflection in the TV calmly looking back and forth from him to Gilbert. Alfred smiled. The first time Alfred and Gilbert had a fistfight, Mathias was in complete panic. But now, he seems used to it.

"How's the arm?"

Alfred froze for a moment, fearing that Gilbert knew that he was being haunted. He recovered a second later as he remembered the lie that he told his friends. _I'm getting paranoid._

"Yeah. The cuts aren't that deep. Didn't even need stitches."

"How did the mirror break anyway?" Mathias cut in.

Alfred shrugged and explained his fake theory about the light bulbs overheating, and the heat of the explosion must have broken the mirror too. Mathias didn't seem to think too much about it as long it was nothing too serious. But still, Alfred needed to be careful around his two best friends; especially Gilbert. The university student might act childishly and stupidly sometimes, but Alfred knew that his friend was actually sharper than he puts on.

"Well whatever," Mathias said, glancing at his phone, "as long as you'll be fine. I need to go. They put a curfew in the dorms" He rolled his eyes. "You staying, Gil?"

"No. I'm leaving too." Gilbert's eyes remained on Alfred, which creped him out a bit. "Take care, Al."

"You too."

Alfred saw Gilbert and Mathias to the door. With a salute, Gilbert turned his back and walked off. Mathias lagged back for a while just long enough to give a piece of his mind to Alfred.

Mathias' face turned serious as he spoke. "If you have a problem, you know we'll help right? Even if this has something do to with summoned demons, got it? The three of us could easily gank those sons of bitches."

"You watch too much Supernatural."

Mathias' was all smiles again as he winked and yelled, "Later!"

Before Alfred could reply, Mathias ran off to catch up to Gilbert.

"You must feel dimmer when you are with friends like those two," Arthur, as the ghost said his name was, commented as Alfred returned to his room.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Only that they are smarter than you. Much smarter."

Alfred let the insult pass. He didn't have the energy to argue. Instead, he began preparing for bed.

"What is the silver-head's name?"

Alfred spat the tooth paste bubbles from his mouth.

"Silver-head?" he repeated. "He's Gilbert."

"Gilbert what?"

"You seem interested in him. You've been staring at him too. Is he your type or something?"

"Just answer the question, Jones."

When Alfred came out of the washroom, Arthur was standing, or floating, in front of the door. Alfred would've punched his face if it were solid.

"Gilbert Beilschmidt."

Alfred noticed Arthur's green eyes widen a fraction.

"And the other one?"

"Mathias Kohler. Any more questions?"

"None."

"Good. Then leave me alone for a while. I need to sleep."

Alfred fell asleep quickly. He didn't even notice Arthur creating a storm in his room.


	3. Heart to Heart

Notes on names (just in case)

Egill = Iceland

Lukas = Norway

Belle = Belgium

Edited: Nov 7, 2012

©Hidekaz Himaruya

* * *

><p>The next morning didn't bring any joy to Alfred. Because one; it was morning, and two; because his room looked as if a dozen drunk chimpanzees had partied in it. Alfred's room was naturally messy. There was always a jacket that hung on the back of the chair or pants that was kicked under the bed, forgotten. His study desk was always covered with unopened textbooks, comic magazines, tangled earphones, scattered coins, the occasional cans of coke, and other things Alfred had thrown on it. The state of Alfred's room that morning, however, was worse. All of his drawers were opened; their contents were strewn all over the place. The curtain fell from its rod, exposing the room to the sunlight. Both newly washed and soiled clothes either covered the floor or hung on various places, such as doorknobs. The trash bin was knocked aside; pencil shavings and crumpled papers lay next to its open mouth.<p>

"What the…" Alfred began as he pushed the covers aside and attempted to retrieve one of his underwear from the lamp. He didn't get very far. As he jumped out of his bed, he stepped on his glasses, which found its way under a two-day old shirt.

"Shit!" Alfred yelled, falling back on his bed as he rubbed his foot.

"It's about time you woke up. If you have slept for one more second I would've forced you awake."

Alfred whirled around to the general direction of Arthur's voice. The ghost's figure hovered slightly above the bed, next to where Alfred had been laying. Alfred tried not to think if the ghost had been next to him the whole time he was asleep.

"You did this?" Alfred asked, gesturing around the room all the while still massaging his foot.

"Well, yes."

"How-? Why the hell did you do this? You just love screwing me over, don't you?"

"Don't yell at me. I was merely trying to look for something."

Alfred glared up at the disembodied eyes before him.

"What now?"

Arthur appeared to nod his head. Alfred turned his gaze in the direction of the desk. It was the only thing in the room that appeared to be wiped clean. Only a few photographs were on it, and the duffel bag Alfred had carried to the old church. Arthur raised one of his eerie translucent arms and at the same time four of the photographs floated from the table to the bed. Alfred warily eyed the photographs as they landed close to him. He was terrified and impressed at the same time.

"How did you do that?" he asked, wishing he could have super powers too.

"Magic," Arthur said curtly, "I can use magic. It's a bit harder in this form, though. I spent quite some time trying to control it, which is why your room is in its current state."

Magic. Of course. Alfred was hardly surprised. After all that happened for the past two weeks, Alfred mostly went with whatever the ghost said rather than arguing with it. However, destroying his room was going too far. Alfred waited for an apology from Arthur. It didn't come. Alfred took a deep, calming breath. He had to focus. He needed to quickly fix the mess he made so that he'd be free from his ghost. He was just about to ask what Arthur wanted from the pictures when Francis entered the room. His morning greeting died in his throat when he made sense of what he saw.

"Oh my. Little cousin what have you done to your room?" He stared, horrified, at the exacta blade embedded on the wall to his right. "Did our Gil go wild last night? Hmn. He left fairly sane, though."

"Just redecorating." Alfred chuckled.

As Francis said something about how unpredictable and crazy teenagers were nowadays, Alfred noticed Arthur silently moving towards Francis. Those green eyes of his had the same intensity that Alfred recognized from the first time he locked eyes with Arthur through the mirror.

"Anyway," Francis sighed, "It's a sunny weekend. Pa went to the hospital, Matthew's setting up the table, and I just finished making breakfast. So why don't you wash your face and hurry down, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. You're acting like a mother again."

"Ho ho. Better get moving then, before I spank you." He winked and made gestures that Alfred didn't want to see.

Alfred groaned and threw a pillow at Francis. "Dude! Don't do that! Just don't-"

Francis laughed manically, his hand dramatically over his mouth, as he retreated from the room. His voice yelling, "Hurry up, little cousin!" echoed as he went down the hall.

"Don't call me that either! I'm not little anymore!" Alfred yelled backed, then, despite himself, laughed. He had known Francis and Matthew since they were kids. He first met his cousins when his mother took him along to Paris to visit her older sister, Macee, Francis' and Matthew's mother. Alfred was ten then, Matthew nine. And Francis was seventeen. Even as a testosterone driven teen, Francis had managed to take a good care of him and Matthew in his own way. They'd played around the garden, and Francis would always give the two younger boys snacks afterwards. Sometimes, Francis would dry and comb their hair after a bath in the rain. Ever since then, Alfred took a liking to Francis, even though Francis developed a habit of being vulgar and disgusting sometimes.

"Jones?" Arthur asked timidly. His tone surprised Alfred. "That man, he is Francis Bonnefoy, yes?"

"Yeah. How did you know? Hey, were you spying on us during dinner last night?"

Arthur mumbled something to himself. He floated in circles for some time before coming to a stop near the bed. The ghost was staring at the photographs like he was trying to remember something. Alfred decided to set the matter aside for now and moved to his desk to check if the contents of his bag were still there.

"Jones." Arthur said again. More demanding. More like the irritating, so-full-of-himself ghost that Alfred knew.

"What?"

"This man in the photo," Alfred stopped trying to unzip his duffel to look up at the, once again, floating photo. It was a picture of himself and Matthew taken at the Niagara Falls.

"Is he Matthew Williams?"

"You were spying! How else could you know their names? I told you not to go anywhere near them!"

"Stop talking for a moment and listen! Here," another photo floated in front of Alfred. This time it was a picture of the school basketball team. "Tell me their names."

Arthur just kept getting more obnoxious as time passed on. But Alfred didn't bother to argue with Arthur. It would be pointless if he can't even land a punch. Besides, Alfred learned that the best way for him to make Arthur leave him be, at least for a while, was to give him what he wanted. Alfred snatched the photo out of the air and Alfred called out the names of the people Arthur indicated.

"That one is Ludwig…that's Ned. And Berwald, he goes to the same boarding school as Mathias, but he plays with us for fun. And that last one is the team captain, Ivan."

Arthur's eyes were wide and glowing. "Ivan what?"

"Ivan Braginsky."

Arthur was silent for a while. Then he asked, "Do you know someone called Arthur Kirkland? Aside from myself, I mean."

"Kirkland, huh? So that's your name. Well, fortunately, no. You're the only Arthur I know."

Arthur sighed and resumed pacing. He was thinking hard. He was troubled and a bit excited; at least that is what Alfred assumed from what he could see of Arthur's expression. Alfred went back to trying to unzip the bag. It must have been caught on something since the teeth refused to part. The zipper was also of a slightly darker color than Alfred remembered, like it had rusted or burnt, which was both impossible since the bag was fairly new.

"Would you stop that!" Alfred ordered, distracted by Arthur's circling. "I feel cold every time you come near me. What are you on about anyway?"

Arthur stopped moving. "These people," he said, "I know them. Mathias too. And I've heard of Gilbert and Ivan. You are, well that is, some of these people are my…" Arthur stared at Alfred and hesitated for a while, then continued "…friends back home. But somehow your personalities seem different here than they are where I'm from."

"And where are you from, exactly?" Alfred felt like he was about to get lost in their conversation.

"Večna Noč."

"Okay."

Alfred decided that it was best if they continued their conversation, as well as trying to pry the bag open, after Alfred's mind was fully awake and his stomach stopped growling. Alfred half-asked-half-ordered Arthur to stay put in his room. And while he was there, he should also clean it. It made the ghost indignant, but he reluctantly agreed after Alfred pointed out that he was the one responsible for the mess.

o o o

"Morning, Al!" Matthew greeted as Alfred stumbled to the kitchen. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just hungry. Very hungry."

Alfred served himself a hotdog sandwich with overflowing ketchup, mustard, and mayo, and a ridiculous amount of cheese. Matthew looked on, but remained silent otherwise. It was a silent agreement between them not to judge the other's excessiveness after Mattie snapped when Alfred hid all the maple syrup in the house after he caught Mattie drinking a bottle. Francis sat on the couch, watching Megastructures, as he slowly ate his toasts.

"Hey, Al, what happened to you this morning?" Matthew asked before wolfing down his own sandwich.

"Whad'ya mean?" Alfred asked between bites.

"I heard you screaming."

"Oh, that. Stepped on my glasses." Alfred pointed at the misshapen object resting uncomfortably on the bridge of his nose.

"Ooh. You might need to replace that. You have a spare?"

"Somewhere in my room."

Matthew stopped eating and stared at Alfred for a while. His cousin looked tired, like he hadn't had a good sleep for days. Having his blonde hair stand in different directions didn't help to improve Alfred's appearance either. Alfred didn't notice Matthew's scrutiny and continued eating. Matthew cleared his throat.

"But that wasn't what I meant. You sounded like you were screaming at someone."

Alfred stopped eating then. "Yeah. Just screaming at myself. Francis, dude, can I finish all these hotdogs?"

"Help yourself. Just don't die from eating too much too quickly." Francis waved his orange juice around as he spoke.

"So, how's the arm? It should've healed by now."

Alfred held his bandaged arm forward. In truth, the wound healed a long time ago. It healed soon after it appeared, actually. But there were scars. And Alfred didn't want anyone to see those freaky scars because it sure as hell would raise suspicion.

"Yeah," Alfred said, "But the skin is still a bit sore. It'll be fine."

Alfred just laughed and hoped that Matthew bought his lie. After cleaning up in the kitchen, Alfred made his excuse about cleaning his room and asked not to be disturbed.

"Alfred cleans his room?" Matthew whispered to Francis after he heard Alfred's door click.

"Apparently," Answered Francis. "He's been up there most of the time lately, hasn't he? Locked doors, suspicious noises. It seems he discovered the pleasures of-"

The phone rang before Francis could finish his sentence, to Matthew's relief.

ooo

By the time Alfred got back to his room, the place almost looked like the way it should be. Instead of helping to organize, Alfred watched with amusement as his belongings flew from one place to another. He occasionally commented, saying that something was cool or awesome. However he stopped talking at all after Arthur placed the exacta blade hovering between his eyes when he said that Arthur missed a spot. When Arthur refused to work any longer, Alfred made himself comfortable on his bed and resumed their talk.

"So, this place you're from, uh..."

"Večna Noč," Arthur repeated.

"Yeah, that. You're saying that there are people who look just like my friends here? And that they have the same names too?"

"Yes. This this most likely a parallel world. It's not the first time that I, and a couple of my colleagues thought about the possibility of parallel world. But I'd never expected to actually visit one. In fact, I didn't even know if it was possible or even allowed to cross worlds. Yet here I am now, summoned by you." Arthur made a tiny, airy laugh. "Jones, you know what a parallel world is, right?"

Alfred threw a Batman plushy at Arthur, which passed right through him. "Tsk. Of course I do! I've watched enough sci-fi movies to know what it is. It's something like a copy of your own world only different, or something like that. Anyway, you think you're from this parallel world? Are you sure you aren't just a lost spirit?"

"Of course! I'm not dead. I had just got home from a Council Meeting-"

"You're a council member?" Alfred interrupted.

"Yes. Sort of."

"What does the council do?"

"It- We lead our people."

"You don't look the part."

"Anyway," Arthur said as a warning. "After that I sparred with, uh, a friend for some time. After that my colleagues and I were…"

"Were…?"

Arthur's eyes narrowed dangerously, and Alfred felt a familiar chill suffocating him.

"We were doing an experiment. But something had gone wrong. It was chaos in the room. And he was in the way. So I…"

Arthur stopped talking for a while. His wispy form lowered to the bed and went still. Alfred found himself unable to move either.

"Jones," Arthur said, very quietly, "I think I might really be dead."

The silence was oppressing. Arthur was lost in his own thoughts, while Alfred could not gather his to make the right response. What were you supposed to say to that?

"Um, well, you don't know that. The thing I said earlier about being a ghost and all, it was just a joke. It's just that what you said about parallel universe was too much. Everything is too much. And I really don't get how this could happen. This shit is just too confusing right now. Actually, I might be going in shock right now. I was wondering how I could remain calm for - what, two weeks? - with all this shit happening. I should be screaming and running for an asylum right now."

"Wow." Arthur placed his face close to Alfred, who forced himself not to move back.

"What?"

The ghost was looking at him with wide eyes. "It's amusing to see you in this light."

"Are you making fun of me? After I tried cheer up your pathetic ass?"

"Don't speak to me in that manner."

"Whatever."

"You will help me, though, right Jones?"

Alfred scratched his nose at the sudden change in Arthur's demeanor.

"Yeah, yeah. I told you, right? I'll send you back home. Wherever that is"

"We should take a look at the place where you did the summoning. I might find some information there."

"We? Go alone. I'll draw you a map."

Arthur sighed, "Idiot. Have you forgotten? I am tied to you. The distance in which I can move freely without you is limited. Where ever you go, I go. Perhaps you could try cut to off your right arm, and then I could levitate it with me so that I could go where I please."

"No. A floating arm would be bad." Alfred sighed. He had no intention of going back to the old church. "Is there any other option?"

"There was one. But…" Arthur rose from the bed and hovered close to the desk. Alfred followed him, remembering his task to open the bag. Before Alfred could get to it, Arthur swept his arm and the bag's zipper was completely torn off.

"Dude!'

"Shut up, Jones. Don't give me that dirty look. Close your mouth and look inside."

Alfred did so. But he didn't see anything. There was no tin bowl, no old book. There was nothing but ashes. No wonder the bag felt lighter. Alfred's first thought was that his grandfather would kill him for losing a thousand year old book, which had almost cost his life during its excavation. Then Alfred realized the more troubling part of losing the book.

"The instructions are all in the book. And it`s gone. How?"

"There are many things that are still beyond my understanding."

"You don't know," Alfred spat.

Arthur met Alfred's glare steadily. "I don't know."

"Can't you fix it with magic?"

"I can't. Not in this form."

"I'd slam your head into the wall if I could."

"I'd slam _you_ into the wall but I need you alive."

Silence followed Alfred and Arthur's words, in which the former tried to calm down and come up with solutions. He didn't like the only option they had.

"Damn it! No choice then. I'm gonna take a bath. It's better if we go early. Don't want to stay in that place 'till dark."

"Then move quickly."

Alfred slammed the bathroom door in response.

ooo

Alfred and Arthur's plan to go back to the old church was quickly ruined as they were about to step out of the house. It was going very well at first; Francis agreed to lend his car without a fuss because, apparently, he didn't need it. However, when Alfred stepped out of the house, he was immediately grabbed by Gilbert and Mathias by his arms and dragged into a black pick-up truck. Alfred tried to break free, but his two friends overpowered him. It was only when the backdoor slammed shut that Alfred managed to form actual words.

"What the hell is this?" he demanded.

"What indeed."

Alfred realised that there was someone else in the backseat. The mysterious brothers Lukas and Egill, who had just spoken, were with him. Alfred didn't have much of a relationship with Mathias' housemates aside from having common friends; Mathias and Berwald. But there are times when Lukas and Alfred got together well, mostly when they were pulling pranks on Mathias. Egill sat by the window, looking outside with a tiny frown. Alfred found it strange to see him in a simple flip flops, instead of his usual white boots. Lukas, the older brother, was similarly dressed – a plain blue T - shirt, white knee-length shorts, and flip flops.

"Hello, Alfred," Lukas greeted.

"Hey. We're going to the beach?" Alfred assumed.

"Mathias' idea."

As if on cue, Mathias clambered into the divers' seat, grinning broadly. Alfred watched, confused, as Mathias yelled for Gilbert to hurry. The latter came out of the house followed by Francis and Matthew, who were both already dressed for the beach. Matthew joined Mathias in the front, his bag full of chips and a change of clothes.

"You knew about this?" Alfred asked, unbelieving.

Mattie just kept smiling happily and offered him Cheetos. Lukas helped himself in some, but Alfred merely turned his attention to Francis.

"I only heard about it this morning, after breakfast. You didn't want to be disturbed," Francis quipped before jumping on the truck bed with Gilbert.

_Bastards._

"Everyone ready?" Mathias asked louder than necessary.

"Like hell." Alfred mumbled. Things were going too fast for his liking.

There was a thud on the roof that answered Mathias' question. And then they were off. Halfway through the trip, Lukas began teasing Egill just to ease his boredom. Cheetos were suddenly flying everywhere, and Mathias kept complaining about his car getting 'cheezed'. Lukas then turned his attack on him. Later on, Alfred had to switch places with Gilbert after the latter flipped his finger at the driver behind them. The lady was furious and had them pull over. After the screaming contest and some sweet talking from Francis the woman finally calmed down. After that, they all decided to 'confine' Gilbert. Alfred and Francis sat next to each other, their backs pressed to the rear window. Francis was working on his sketchbook, doodling houses in a style similar to Frank Lloyd Wright's. Meanwhile, Alfred worked on keeping his hair from poking his eyes. Unlike Francis, whose shoulder length hair was held in a messy bun, Alfred's hair was whipping around and sticking up, and refused to stay down. Alfred only stopped fussing after Francis tied his fringe with a rubber band. After that, Alfred managed to enjoy the sun and wind against his face. And the smell of brine brought back some memories with his parents in the Bahamas. He was in a good mood in no time.

"Pass me a beer, will ya?"

"No drinking until we get to the beach. That's what Gilbert said."

"He's half-drunk already."

"Dearest, Gilbert is half-drunk most of the time."

Alfred laughed. Francis smirked and opened two bottles. Alfred gulped his beer down and forced out a loud burp. Francis replied with a louder one, to Alfred's surprise. The two burst out into hysterical laughter, almost drawing tears to their eyes. It was only when he could breathe again did Alfred talk.

"It's been a while, huh." Alfred didn't know what exactly he was talking about. Was it 'it's been a while since he and his friends had a picnic?' or was it 'it's been a while since he felt so relaxed and carefree?' or 'it's been a while since he laughed like that?' or maybe 'it's been a while since he had a good beer?' It didn't matter though. Francis seemed to understand. He grinned and slapped his bottle to Alfred's before drowning the rest of his drink. Alfred followed suit.

OOO

Alfred's party was greeted by Gilbert's younger brother, Ludwig, Berwald and Tino, one of Mathias' housemates. They apparently headed for the beach first to set up the volley ball net as well as the grill and the picnic tables. Alfred was just wondering who else Mathias invited to the small party when Kiku popped out behind Ludwig with a smile on his face and a camera around his neck. The four of them helped unloading the beer kegs, umbrellas, tents and the precious, precious food. Most of the nipa huts were occupied, but not so much to crowd the beach. Some people were spread out on the sand, sunbathing. Children were playing in the water. Ludwig led the rest of the group to one of the huts where familiar faces gathered. Yao was passed out on a bench while his cousin, Leon, was going through his belongings searching for food. Egill threw him a bag of chips to make him stop rummaging. Feliciano and his brother were there too. Alfred was surprised to see Lovino there. He usually didn't hang out with them, so Alfred guessed that he might have come along to keep an eye on his brother. After their luggage were sorted out, everyone went to do their own thing.

It was only a matter of time before Alfred and his friends were stripped down to their swimming trunks and covered in sweat and sand as their casual game of beach volleyball intensified. Mathias, Lukas, Berwald and Ludwig were currently in the lead, but Alfred, Francis, Matthew and Gilbert were determined to win. Some of the beachgoers gathered around to watch the game, cheering on either team. Most of them, Alfred noticed, were female. One of the guys, a happy-go-lucky man called Antonio joined in, which made Gilbert force Leon to join as well to even the numbers. Back in the cottage, Yao, Tino and Egill were cheering loudly while munching on chips. Meanwhile Kiku and his bubbly friend, Feliciano, were soaking up in the sea.

Alfred had the most fun he had in days. The game had demanded all of his attention; therefore he didn't have to think of his current problems involving Arthur. Plus it was a great workout. Since that time he was hospitalized, Alfred didn't get a chance to play basketball or baseball, or any of the sports he plays to keep appearance for his injury.

The game was going well; the ball kept flying through the air, seldom touching the ground. Ludwig kept serving up balls that were faster and harder than what was necessary. But Gilbert always managed to dive for it and return it to the other court. It was just starting to look good for Alfred's team when Alfred had hit the ball in the wrong direction. The ball hit Antonio squarely on the face, giving him a bloody nose and sealed his team's victory. On normal circumstances, Alfred would have called for another game. But Alfred wouldn't be able to concentrate anymore. The only reason Alfred accidentally hit Antonio was because Arthur had suddenly appeared in front of him just as he was about to hit the ball. Alfred sincerely apologized to Antonio and then made his way to the bathroom. Arthur reappeared there soon after.

"You have bad timing." Alfred complained, splashing water on his face to get rid of his sweat. "Where have you been anyway? You just vanished. Not that I'm complaining."

"Where are we?" Arthur ignored Alfred's question, as usual.

"The beach. Don't tell me you haven't been to one yet."

As he said those words, Alfred realised that it was true, as Arthur asked enthusiastically, "What was the blue thing out there. It looks so vast and bright."

Arthur, and his world in general, sounded weirder and weirder to Alfred.

Alfred nodded knowingly and said, "The one above? Or below?"

There was a pause where Arthur looked to be thinking about Alfred's words. Then he said, "They were separate?"

Alfred took a deep breath. Their worlds were clearly very, very different from each other.

"The one above is the sky," Alfred pointed a finger upwards, "It's, uh, made of different gasses that people need. The thing that makes the world bright is called the sun. Didn't you learn this in school?" _Do you even know what a school is? _The way things were going, Alfred realised that he'll have a hard time explaining things to Arthur.

"The one in the bottom is the sea. It's made of water and a lot of creatures live in there."

Arthur seemed to be genuinely interested in what Alfred was saying. He asked tons of questions like, 'what kind of creatures lived under the sea and in the sky?' or 'why is water wet? Does it only make you wet when you touch it? Or is water, itself, wet?' Alfred felt that the latter question was only meant to mess with him, so he quickly gave up on answering Arthur's harder questions seriously since they were getting ridiculous. Getting tired of speed answering, Alfred went back to their hut. Ludwig and Gilbert started to prepare the barbeque, while the others, aside from Yao and Lukas, went swimming.

"Alfred!" Francis called from under an umbrella punched into the sand a few yards from the shore. He had his shirt back on, although it was still unbuttoned, and his sunglasses held back his damp hair. Antonio was with him, his back turned to Alfred.

"Where have you been?" Francis asked.

"Just the washroom." Alfred slapped Antonio's shoulder. The man looked up to him, a bloody tissue paper stuck in his nose. "You okay? I'm really sorry, dude."

Antonio just laughed. "It's fine. It happens, right? Besides, Francis here says it's no big deal."

"You two seem to get along well." Alfred observed.

Francis laid on his back, arms crossed under his head. "Well, Antonio is the type of person that gets along with basically everyone. Right Antonio?"

Antonio ruffled his hair and laughed. "Everyone except him." He nodded his chin toward Lovino, who was currently drowning Feliciano. Alfred wasn't sure if he was doing it playfully or if he really meant business. Before Alfred could ask about what happened with Antonio and Lovino, Matthew came running to Francis, pulling Gilbert behind him.

"They're renting out surf boards!" He yelled excitedly. "Surf with us, Francis!"

Antonio's face lit up. "Oh! Can I come too?"

"You sure that's a good idea?" Gilbert asked Antonio. "You're still bleeding, man."

"No. It stopped. See? I'm a little dizzy. But I'll manage."

Alfred shared a look with Gilbert. _He's kind of an airhead. _They were both slightly concerned at his carefreeness.

"Oh, well, the more the merrier," said Francis. "Aren't you coming, little cousin?"

Alfred shook his head. Since Arthur was back, he didn't think he could concentrate on staying on the board.

"You kids go have fun," Alfred said jokingly. "I'll help Ludwig with the barbeque."

"Whatever you say." Gilbert said.

As the four of them raced to the rental shop, Arthur piped up.

"What is surfing?"

Alfred rolled his eyes. "If you want to know, go watch them. Or is it too far for you?"

Suddenly, Alfred was inhaling sand. He got up quickly, fuming.

"Son of a bitch!" He roared. He was ready to take back his word on helping Arthur, but his threat was pointless since Arthur vanished again. "Damn it," he mumbled again. Then he heard a giggle. Alfred patted himself clean while looking for the source of the giggle. A girl with short wavy blonde hair stood behind him. She wore a khaki shirt - which failed to cover her long legs - over a black two-piece bathing suit, which was clearly visible under the thin fabric. Alfred ran his eyes over the glorious sight before him, and then flashed a smile.

She laughed again. "Are you okay?"

Suddenly, Alfred felt like a fool. "You saw that?"

"By 'that' do you mean tripping over nothing?"

"Yeah. That." Alfred placed his palms together and brought it under his chin. "Do me a favor; don't tell any of my friends?"

She was hiding a smile as she pretended to think about it. "Hmn. Fine, on one condition; tell me your name."

Alfred raised an eyebrow. He held out his hand.

"Alfred. A pleasure to meet you."

"Belle."

"Ah. Very fitting."

"Thank you. I like your hair, by the way."

Alfred's hand flew to his head. His fringe was still tied up from the trip. He was about to take it off when Belle stopped him. She smiled, took Alfred's hand and shook it. She held his hand for second longer before letting go.

"Leave it. It looks cute. So, you're here with your friends?"

"Yes. And my cousins, and their friends, who also brought their cousins."

"Sounds like a party."

Alfred laughed. It was more like a gathering of five-year-olds on sugar rush. "Yeah, something like that. Why don't you join us. There's barbeque." Alfred wriggled his eyebrows.

"Oh, God. I love barbeque!"

"Who doesn't?"

"My brother," Belle said mater-of-factly. "He's picky with his food. But I basically eat anything edible. I'm kind of a glutton."

Alfred looked over Belle's curves again. "It doesn't show."

A finger came under Alfred's chin, pushing his head up.

"Eyes over here, Alfred." Belle stared at Alfred pointedly, before breaking into a smile. "About that barbeque…"

"Of course." Alfred stepped aside, flourished his arm and made a tiny bow, like those butlers he'd seen on TV do. "This way."

Belle tilted her head to the side and took Alfred's arm. "I noticed it while you were playing. Is it okay?"

"Hm? Oh that. Yeah. It's healed. The bandages will come off soon." Alfred gently pulled Belle's hand from his arm and guided her to the hut. "So you watched the game?"

If Belle was bothered by the sudden change of subject, she didn't show it.

"I did. It was bloody."

Alfred scratched his nose again. "You saw too, huh?"

"No one could miss it." Belle giggled. "I hope the poor guy is okay."

"Dude's fine. He's surfing right now."

Alfred looked over to the sea, as if he could spot where Antonio and the other three were. What he did see, was Arthur's figure by the shore. He appeared to be crouching, like he was trying to touch the little waves before it retreated back to the sea. It reminded him of kid on his first trip to the beach.

A whistle caught Alfred's attention. He turned his head to where the sound came from. Mathias was waving at him. His usually wild hair flattened by the water. He was waist-deep in the sea, but there was no mistaking the pelvic thrusts that he was doing. Thankfully, Berwald pushed him under water when he realized what Mathias was doing.

"They're really charming." Belle said.

Alfred felt his face get warm. "Wait 'till you meet Francis."

"Is he as handsome as you?"

"Hell, no. I'm way better looking than him. I'm taller and more of a gentleman th-"

Just then a beach ball hit Alfred's face.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?" Belle gasped as he helped Alfred on his feet.

"Yeah. Karma, I guess."

Belle shook her head, trying not to laugh. "Where did that come from though?"

Just then a wide eyed kid came running to them.

"Sorry," He murmured, almost fearfully, before taking the ball and running away.

The two made their way to the hut, where names were exchanged. Ludwig was surprisingly gentle to Belle. The guy was serious most of the time, and he had few words to say to anyone -except when he was lecturing Gilbert. It was a bit of a relief for Alfred that he didn't appear intimidating to Belle. Yao and Lukas were equally polite to Belle. But they mostly kept to themselves, occasionally whispering to each other.

Ludwig was done with the burger patties and was just starting with the sausages and the steak. So Alfred busied himself with making the burgers. Belle helped him with that. All the while, they were talking about themselves, school and other things. Belle did most of the asking though, and Alfred was once again, speed answering. The two of them took a break from slicing lettuce and tomatoes after their thirty-second burger.

"Isn't this a bit too much?" Belle asked, bringing one of the burgers to her mouth.

"It's not enough if Alfred were to be fed." Yao commented, reaching for his own snack. "Not to mention the Beilschmidt's and Mathias."

Ludwig joined in. "Your cousin eats more than I do, Yao."

"Psh. Everyone here eats like a pig." Alfred scoffed.

"Shouldn't we call the others?"

"Better not," said Ludwig and Lukas in unison.

"Leave them for now. They'll make just make a mess," Lukas explained.

"Hey, did I run out of ketchup?"

Alfred had the red bottle upside down, but nothing came out. He shook it checking to see if there was some ketchup inside. There was. Alfred tried squeezing again. Still nothing.

"Dude, this sucks." He whined, peering into the hole. Then Alfred went blind. At least, that was what he thought that happened. "Ah! Shit! My eye!" Alfred yelled as he wiped away the splatter of ketchup on his face. He could hear Yao and Lukas' snickers, and he could just imagine Ludwig slapping his forehead.

"What happened?" Belle gasped. Alfred felt her hands wiping the mess off his face. When he thought it was safe, Alfred opened his eyes. It burned a little, but otherwise, his vision was fine. He could perfectly see Belle's green eyes inches from his.

"You're tall," He said foolishly, which made Belle smile.

"And you're a real cutie."

There was a chuckle from either Yao or Lukas. Alfred turned to them just in time to see Yao pocket something that looked like a bill. Were they betting? Before Alfred could call them out on it, Ludwig ordered everyone to start working again. This time, Yao helped out. Belle was slicing the cheese and the bread, Yao handled the lettuce, and Alfred did the tomatoes. At first, it was Alfred who added the ketchup or mayo into the burger. But after squirting ketchup on Belle's shirt twice, he gave that job to Yao. He even soiled half-dozen sausages Ludwig handed to him when he tripped and brought down the platter with him. In the end, Alfred even managed to screw up his only job when the knife slipped and cut his left ring finger.

"Oh, God! Are you okay?" Belle exclaimed.

"You've asked that for a hundred times now." Alfred chuckled.

"How can someone be so unlucky?" Ludwig asked rhetorically.

"Are you usually this clumsy?" There was a hint of annoyance in Belle's voice.

"He's a bit of an idiot." Lukas deadpanned.

Belle raised an eyebrow at him then gave Alfred a bothered look. Yao grabbed Alfred's hand and covered the cut with a Band-Aid that appeared out of nowhere.

Somewhere to Alfred's right, a voice said, "A complete idiot if you ask me."

Arthur! Alfred should have known. It was all Arthur's doing all along. The beach ball, the ketchup, the tripping. And now the cut. If Alfred can't fix things with Arthur, the ghost might end up killing him.

"Talk later," Alfred whispered, hoping Arthur would get the message. He did.

"You better not make me wait, Jones," Arthur replied then his voice was gone.

Just before the burgers, the sausages and the steak were done, the guys who went surfing came back. Soon, the others were filing in, until only Feliciano and Lovino were in the water. Later on, Belle was joined by her brother and her friends, Elizaveta and Lili, who were looking for her. Francis and Gilbert were very delighted to meet the three women. Ivan arrived too. He brought a bottle of vodka as an apology for being late. Naturally, Gilbert welcomed him with open arms. Who else but Ivan could get them alcoholic drinks better than beer?

The drinks were distributed, the food pawed at. The hut was getting rowdy as Alfred and Gilbert started an arm wrestling contest. Alfred had to use his left arm – due to his nonexistent wound – yet he still managed to win. Antonio was talking over everyone else, who were also trying to talk over the others. Things only got noisier when the Vargas twins returned. Berwald and Ludwig drank apart from the others, though, choosing to drink in silence under an umbrella as they watched the sun set. Alfred tried to get the two of them to join the craziness in the hut without success. Mathias was the next one to persuade them. His method was to use force on the two. He miserably failed when Berwald knocked Mathias to the ground by pulling his leg when Mathias tried to drag Berwald by the neck. The two were left alone after that. Kiku, Lukas, and Yao were playing cards on a bench. From the pout on Yao's lips, it was clear that he was losing.

As things were, Alfred easily slipped away without anyone noticing. He found a place isolated enough for him to talk to thin air without anyone thinking he was crazy. Alfred sat on a huge reef jutting out from the water.

"Arthur?"

The ghost's from appeared, floating above the water.

"Still mad?"

Alfred was being extra careful with his tone. One wrong move, and he might be sleeping with the fishes.

"Quite. You have angered me many times this day."

"Well, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for screwing up the plan to go to the creepy church. I'm sorry for making that rude remark and for whatever else I did to piss you off."

"Are you sincere?"

"I am."

"Then apology accepted, Jones."

"Phew. Great. So, what else were you so angry about, anyway?"

Arthur's answer came a while later. "Your attitude, for one."

"Is that really it?"

"Yes."

"You looked like you had to think about it."

"You are annoying, Jones."

"Is that it then? I annoyed you so much that you threw balls at me and even made me cut my finger?"

"That. Along with other reasons."

"What reasons?"

Arthur moved closer until Alfred felt cold. "I don't like being ignored and forgotten, Jones. Remember that."

"Dude, chill. I won't ignore you again."

Arthur pulled back then. "On that note, I have plenty questions for you, Jones. I want each of them answered."

Alfred sighed. It seems that he was being easily manipulated by the ghost.

"Can we do the 20 questions later? Like, after I've eaten dinner and gotten drunk?"

"Jones," Arthur warned.

Alfred wondered when his own name had become a threat. "Fine. Tonight. When everyone's asleep. Deal?"

"I have made one too many deals with you, Jones." And just like that, Arthur disappeared.

* * *

><p>I feel like this is a very long and confusing chapter.<p>

Anyway, thanks for reading and for the reviews. I really appreciate it.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	4. The Visitor

**I just have a couple of things to say.**

1. Thank you so much for reading and/or reviewing. Thanks also for favorite-ing and/or following my story. I appreciate it. And sorry if my updates are slow. I've been busy recently.

2. I used foreign words to name Arthur's world, as well as the different races that live there. I mostly used google translate and one other website. If you you see a mistake in the translation, please tell me so. I'll fix it up.

**Auriu** - Romanian for 'golden'; **Spadix** - Latin for 'brown'; **Abbronzarsi** - Italian for tan, brown and bronze. But I used it here to mean 'bronze'; **Večna Noč** - Slovenian for 'eternal night'; **Steifheit** - German for 'strength' (among other things); **Trohet** - Swedish for 'loyalty' (among other things); **Esprit** - french for 'intellect'(among other things)

3. And of course, Hetalia © Hidekaz Himaruya

* * *

><p>The bodies fell one by one. Yao was the first to go. He had been losing badly at the poker game and decided to slink off to the tent he shared with Leon. Feliciano went next. He had too much liquor than he could handle and had to be dragged off by Lovino, who was an expert at handling his twin judging by how easy it was for him to manipulate Feliciano into shutting up. People got cut down left and right due to either their drunkenness, or they simply couldn't handle Alfred, Mathias and Gilbert anymore and went to bed. It had been an hour – maybe two – since the last people drinking decided to call it a night. Alfred couldn't hear any sound coming from the other tents, so he assumed everybody was asleep; everybody except Matthew, Francis and Antonio, who were all in the same tent with him.<p>

"Ah, today was fun wasn't it?" Antonio said, not bothering to whisper, which was bad for Alfred since the guy was so close to him that he was basically talking into his ear. "Mattie was incredible on the board! That was really unexpected." Alfred wondered when Antonio started calling Matthew 'Mattie'.

From the back end of the tent, Alfred heard Matthew chuckle. "I get that a lot."

"Yeah? Fran was horrible, though. How many times did he fall over?"

"Well, I need to have at least one fault, do I not?"

"You have plenty faults if you ask me. Hmn? Hey, is Gil always this clingy? He won't let go of me. He's so warm. Hehe. He snores. Wait. Ah! He's drooling over me! He's spit is touching my skin!"

Alfred quickly kicked Gilbert away from Antonio before the latter could wake up the entire world.

"Phew. Thanks, Al!"

Al? Someone was getting awfully chummy.

"That was gross. Speaking of yuck, what the hell happened to Belle's shirt? She said it was 'from an accident' then she took it off right in front of me. That was kinda hot. But then Lovino gave her his shirt and spoiled all the fun. The guy really hates me. What do you think I did for him to hate me?"

"Maybe because you talk too much," Alfred murmured.

Francis chuckled before answering seriously, "From what I've seen so far, Lovino is like that to everyone. He's a bit shy, if you ask me. I'm surprised that he joined our little picnic."

"So, he doesn't hang out with you guys? Then he's missing a lot. Especially the food. Damn, Ludwig makes good sausages. Where did he go after…"

Antonio kept talking and talking. Francis and Matthew seem to be okay with it, but Alfred was annoyed. Alfred had nothing against the guy; he was chill, funny and nice to be with. But Alfred had to be somewhere and Antonio was blocking his way to freedom. If Alfred were to sneak out unnoticed, then he needed everyone in the tent to be unconscious. Antonio made that impossible with his ramblings. Alfred could just punch their light outs. But how would he explain that in the morning? Antonio, Francis and Matthew talked about nothing and everything for a while more. Alfred almost fell asleep waiting for them to shut up.

"You know, I'm glad-" Antonio was saying but he stopped abruptly. Alfred turned to find Antonio fast asleep. Alfred propped himself in his elbow, checking to see if Francis and Matthew were unconscious too. They were. A cold breeze pushed through the tent's opening, and Alfred knew what happened. He quickly put on his hoodie and silently crawled out of the tent.

In addition to the bright moon, there were dying flames of campfires dotting the beach that helped Alfred find his way. On his way out, Alfred was surprised to see Ludwig, Kiku and Feliciano sleeping around a fire. He heard from Kiku that the three of them were really good friends, despite their different personalities. But it was odd to see Ludwig and Feliciano hanging out. But the longer Alfred thought about it, the more he believed that Ludwig and Kiku were probably the best people for Feliciano to be with. Who else could put up with the guy's shit other than the ever so patient Ludwig and the kind Kiku? Alfred snapped a picture of the trio, smirking, before he silently made his way to the rock where he sat before. Arthur was there, waiting.

"That Antonio is a very long winded fellow," he commented.

"You knocked them out?"

"No need to worry. I merely put them to sleep."

"How?"

"You are here to answer my questions, Jones. Not the other way around."

Alfred scoffed as he lay on the huge rock. It was cold and kind of pinching his skin. But the sky was too beautiful for him to mind. Back in the city, not many stars could be seen because of all the lights. Sometimes, it was also difficult to star gaze using his telescope due to the smoke it the air. But here, where the sky was clearer, Alfred could watch the stars to his content. Alfred took a deep breath, and listened to the steady waves. The way it sprayed on the rock and slithered against the sand. The gentle _whish whoosh _as it rolled over one another. The _plip plop_ of a broken faucet.

Wait, what?

"Jones, look!" Arthur exclaimed.

Alfred sat up right and found himself staring at a huge ball of water floating above where Arthur's head should be. Drops of water glided off from its wobbly surface and dropped to the sea. The ghost laughed then hurled the water at Alfred, who didn't have enough time to dodge. Arthur's laughter became louder as the ball hit Alfred on the head. Alfred pushed his wet hair back and took off his glasses. _First you ruined my contacts, now got my glasses wet too?__  
><em>

"You're an asshole, you know that?" he said with a sigh. He just can't take Arthur's ever changing moods anymore. One second, he bosses Alfred around like a king then the next; he's a pathetic ass asking for his help. He's polite in the morning, and then in the evening, he's a rude fuck. He was just bearable a while ago, and now, he soaks him with cold sea water.

"A what?" Arthur asked. Alfred could still hear the happiness in the voice. "Jones, look! This is fun, isn't it?"

From what Alfred could see without his glasses, Arthur appeared to make the water into the form of a winged horse. The water sculpture galloped a few paces, shining silver under the moonlight. Alfred put back his glasses on just in time to see it collapse.

"What's fun about it if I can't do it?" Reluctant to admit it, Alfred was actually a bit jealous that Arthur can do cool tricks like that. Imagine all the kid of pranks he could pull on Gil and Mat if he could make things fly around with his mind. "Didn't you have questions for me?"

"Yes, I do. Are you pouting, Jones?"

"What?" Alfred frowned, hoping to cover his previous expression. "Why would I pout?"

Arthur chuckled and sent a jet of water to Alfred's face. Alfred should've learned to dodge by now, instead, he was blowing his nose trying to remove the water that went inside.

"Just quit it!" Alfred yelled as loud as he could without waking the others.

"Aw, come on. It is nothing but a game! Why don't you come and join me?"

Alfred stared at the floating green eyes, trying to figure out if he was serious or not. He was. Arthur was serious about asking Alfred to play with him in the water.

"Are you a child?"

Arthur gasped. "I am not a child!"

Alfred suppressed his laugh. That's exactly what a child would say. "Then stop playing and get on with the questions. I still need to sleep, you know."

Alfred laid back on the rock, smiling at the sky. He found it amusing how an adult can act like a child. Then Alfred gasped as a thought struck him. What if Arthur was actually a child? But he shook the idea out of his head since Arthur's voice definitely didn't sound like a twelve-year old boy. He sounded more like he was in his early 20's.

"Hey, Arthur how old are you?" Alfred asked.

" I thought-"

"I know, I know. You're the one asking questions. How about we take turns, huh? I realised that you're living in my house and I don't know anything about you."

"That is what you take issue on?" For some reason, Alfred felt that he should be insulted by Arthur's question.

"Just tell me how old you are."

"Hm," Arthur mumbled as he thought. "Seven-"

"Seven!"

Alfred heard some more water splashes before Arthur's reply came. "Seven hundred. And fif - no, thirty. I don't know, Jones. Your time moves faster. But I cannot exactly tell how much the difference is without feeling the earth. I have no way of calculating my age in your terms. All I'm giving is an approximation based on my age back home."

"You're telling me that you're about seven hundred years old?"

"It's my turn to ask now."

And so, Alfred and Arthur's game began. From the start, it was obvious that Arthur was interested in Alfred's world. It wasn't a surprise that all his questions were about the Earth. Most of it required a lot of scientific knowledge, which, luckily, Alfred has. Alfred's questions for Arthur mostly involved the latter's daily life. The more questions he got answered, the more Arthur's life became a fantasy novel.

Arthur Kirkland is one of the Auriu King's many children. Alfred let out a long "whoa" when he heard that. But Arthur shook his head and told him that being a prince did not mean that Arthur had it good. In fact, according to Arthur, it only made things worse for him. After Alfred insisted to hear why, Arthur finally confessed that his blood wasn't pure. His mother was an Abbronzarzi, special people among the Spadix who have stunning bronze-like skin. Alfred tried to imagine what she would look like; a soft, living bronze human statue, with long brown hair and glimmering green eyes. He understood why the other races in Arthur's world would want them as 'personal treasures', but he still disapproved of how they were captured to be sold off or treated like servants.

After the Auriu king died, the Royal Houses decided to abolish monarchy and formed the Council, who governed the people. The people put in charge were the leaders of the three greatest Royal Houses; the Steifheit, led by Ludwig, who was the eldest son; the Trohet, led by Mathias; and the Esprit, supposed to be led by Francis. But the man refused the position and handed it over to his former advisor; Arthur. During that time, the issue about Arthur's blood came up again. Apparently, some Arius people did not trust someone who had 'divided loyalties'.

Arthur commented, "The Council members were in chaos. They took sides, and threw insults at each other like the idiots that they are. In the end, only Ludwig and I were able to settle the matter."

Alfred saw a wild glint in Arthur's eyes as he said, "Ironically, the duel cost me much of my blood, but I'm sure no one would question my authority again."

Arthur's words made Alfred wonder just what kind of world Arthur lived in, what kind of things Arthur have seen and experienced in his long, long life.

"The stars are awfully small," Arthur observed out of the blue. "And they disappear during…what is it you called it?"

"Daytime," Alfred answered groggily.

"Yes. Daytime. In "Večna Noč, there is no daytime. It's always dark."

"I bet it's cold too."

"What is cold?"

"You are cold."

Alfred felt Arthur hover over him. He forced his eyes open to see Arthur's green eyes turn to slits above him.

"Is that an insult?" he asked.

Alfred sighed. Sometimes, Arthur can be a bit slow. "No. I meant that literally." He reached out a hand and swatted Arthur's smoky body. His hands made swirls as it cut through Arthur's supposed stomach.

Alfred clenched his slightly trembling hand. "I already told you before; it gets chilly when you get too close. You're like a walking freezer or something."

Arthur moved away then.

"Freezer? I am cold? Then what is the opposite of cold?"

"It's hot."

"What does it feel like?"

Alfred roughly rubbed his face. This is the type of questions Alfred hated; questions that related to the senses. It's not something you can explain like science. Sure, you can explain how a person can feel temperature, but how was he supposed to explain how hotness feels like? He might as well explain what the color blue looks like to an innately blind person.

"Can't you just feel it?"

"No, I can't. If I could feel 'hot', or anything at all, I would be asking, 'What is this sensation I am feeling?'"

Alfred chuckled. It seems that sarcasm exists in other worlds too. "Seriously? You can't feel anything, huh? Well, it makes sense. You're just air."

"In this world, I am. I don't want to stay like this forever. I'd like to go back. Or, at least, I'd like to know more about this world while I'm here. I want to know what hot feels like. I want to touch the water and taste the food you ate earlier."

Alfred sat up and stared at Arthur, floating close to the water. There it was again; Arthur's child-like side. Alfred thought that it would probably be more fun if Arthur always stayed that way; happy and eager to know about everything. It was certainly better than him being grouchy and bossy.

"Maybe someday," Alfred began. "After you return to your world and do some research, so you could come back here have a vacation. You'll bring your body with you, and I'll take you to every beach I know."

Arthur turned back, surprised by Alfred's promise. His eyes were huge. Alfred almost laughed at the sheer happiness in them. But it soon faded. Arthur faced the open sea again.

"That would be nice," he murmured. Alfred sensed that Arthur realized it was impossible. "You better get your sleep. Goodnight, Jones."

Alfred stared at where Arthur previously stood. That guy sure knows how to spoil the fun, Alfred thought. He took a deep breath, stretched his arms, and went back to the tent.

OOO

Alfred sat alone inside the small white room. The nurse that previously gave him great company hurriedly left minutes ago to help on an emergency. With his chin on his hand, Alfred tried to entertain himself by blowing on the lock of hair that fell over his eyes. He watched it go up, then down. Up again. And then down. Until, finally, he couldn't take it anymore. Rising from his seat by the window, Alfred stomped over to where the bed was and pressed the pager. Before the person on the other end had a chance to say anything, Alfred cut her off.

"Hello! It's Alfred here. Is my uncle still busy?"

"Oh, um…Excuse me, but room 415 is currently shouldn't be occupied. Who gave you permission to enter?" The nurse asked nervously.

Alfred hauled himself on the bed. "My uncle."

"Wh-Hold on for a moment."

There were whispers and rattling sounds coming from the speaker, followed by another voice.

"Alfred F. Jones!"

Alfred gasped. He immediately straightened up and pressed his mouth to the pager. "Jaime! Is that you, man? Long-time no see dude!"

Alfred could hear his mother's old friend sigh. "Alfred, how many time have I told you not to use the pager unless it's an emergency. Actually, don't use it at all."

"Oh, come on. I'm bored. Uncle dragged me all the way here but he left me in this stupid room. Hey, why don't you come up here and we'll catch up! I didn't even know you came back from France already."

The older man's deep chuckle vibrated through the speaker. "Coming right up."

"Really? That's awesome!"

"Of course. I'll just wait for Jacques to come get me. Just sit there and don't touch anything."

Alfred puffed his cheeks. "Geez, it's not like I can bring down the whole hospital just by touching a few things."

"Need I remind you of that incident when you were nine?"

"Hey, it wasn't my fault that the boiler room was open."

Jaime laughed. Then as he calmed down, he said, "Anyway, try not to get into too much trouble. You don't want to have any more exploding light bulbs."

"Huh? How did you know?"

Jaime chuckled a little more, and then the line went dead.

"Urgh! That guy." Alfred scratched his scalp, messing his hair, and fell on his side. He crinkled his nose when he got a sniff of the hospital detergent.

"I'm bored. What should I do?" he groaned.

No one answered. Of all the times Alfred wished that Arthur would leave him alone, the ghost chose to disappear now that he was stuck in the hospital and had nothing to do. Now would be a good chance to get to know more about Arthur's world. Despite everything Alfred thinks about Arthur, he actually likes listening to Arthur's life. Alfred felt like a weird and mysterious bedtime story was being read to him. Alfred had to admit, he was into that sort of thing. Stories about wizards and elves, gods and goddesses, aliens and other mythical beings have always been Alfred's favourites. No wonder he quickly got over his fear of Arthur. He wasn't scared or frightened anymore. Just a little bit excited and annoyed.

The sound of the door opening caught Alfred's attention. Alfred lazily turned his head without getting up. There were two brown-haired men standing at the doorway. One was Alfred's uncle. The other one was…

"Jaime!" Alfred screamed. He stumbled off the bed, knocking down a stool, and then threw himself at his godfather. "Dude, I missed you! You haven't called since Christmas in Egypt."

"You've grown, kid. Look what puberty did to you. You look less like your mother now. But you sure still act like your dad," Jaime said as he patted Alfred on the back.

"He sure does," Jacques added. "They're both very energetic and childish."

"Hey!" Alfred protested, although half-heartedly. "So, why are you here? Not that I'm complaining, but I thought you had your own clinic in Reims and that you're staying there for good?"

Jamie shrugged. "I'm on a vacation. Besides, I can't ignore a request from Jacques."

"You mean Alona," corrected Jacques before he picked up the stool and sat on it.

"Mom?" Alfred looked back and forth between the two men. "What's she got to do with this?"

"Oh, you know…" Jacques began.

And Jamie interjected, "Jacques told your mom about your arm…"

"…She was worried so…"

"…He called me in the middle of the night to come check up on you…"

"And here he is now."

"You guys!" Alfred whined. "Why did you tell her? You know how worried she can get. Besides, I'm fine now."

Alfred noticed the two shared a look. Jacques gave a small nod. Then Jaime sat Alfred on the bed.

He held out his hand. "May I see your arm?"

Alfred narrowed his eyes, thinking of something to avoid showing his scar.

"You're not a doctor. You're a dermatologist," Alfred said lamely.

Jamie sighed. "Yes, Alfred. And I deal with diseases of the skin, which Jacques is afraid you might have."

"What the hell? I don't have a disease!"

"Just let me see it. Please?"

"I thought you were going to drop this?" Alfred directed to Jacques, who shrugged apologetically.

"For some reason, Macee knew about it, and she called your mom."

"You're like gossiping old women!"

Alfred tried not to pull his arm to his chest. That will only raise questions. Subtly looking around for an escape, Alfred realised that Jaime could easily block his way to the door and that the only way he could get out of the room is to jump out of the window.

"Which floor are we in?" Alfred asked.

Jaime frowned, and Jacques raised an eyebrow.

"We're on the thirteenth floor," Jaime deadpanned.

Great. With a groan, Alfred held out his arm. Worst case scenario, his uncle and godfather would realise that the broken mirror wasn't the cause of the wounds and think that it was an act of self mutilation. Alfred sat still while Jaime unwrapped the bandages. Even if he managed to get away this time, Alfred was sure that the two men would only corner him at home that night. He might as well just get it over with.

As the last strip of cloth fell away from his arm, Alfred turned his eyes out the window. Whatever Jamie's and Jacques' reactions were, he didn't want to see it.

"Well," Jamie began, gently twisting Alfred's forearm. "It's not infected. That's for sure. But, the way the scars look...the wounds were deep. How big were the shards?"

Alfred watched a bird fly around before landing on an electric pole.

"I don't remember," Alfred murmured.

_C'mon. There must be something! Ring you stupid pager! Oh! Fire alarm!_

Just then, the muffled ring of an ambulance could be heard. Followed by a voice from the PA.

"_Doctor Bonnefoy to the ER please. Doctor Bonnefoy..."_

Alfred looked at his uncle, who looked back at him before turning his gaze to Jaimie, who just shrugged.

"I'll talk to you tonight." Jacques pointed at Alfred then raced from the room. Alfred, seeing a chance to escape, followed his uncle out and dashed to the nearest stairwell. Before the door closed, he heard Jamie call after him.

Alfred ran four or eight floors down. He wasn't sure which since he concentrated on making sure that he got away from Jaime. The guy might not be as young as he used to be, but Alfred had played many hide-and-seek's with him to know what he was capable of.

When he burst out on the floor that he landed on, he almost dived into a guy on a wheelchair. Alfred shouted some curses as he held on to the IV pole with his left hand and flapped his right arm to balance himself. Then, he felt a hand push on his chest, and he was standing again.

"Goodness, that was close," the guy on the wheelchair said. Alfred quickly noted his accent.

"Dude, you're British? That's so cool." Alfred looked down at the foreign patient. There was something about him that Alfred can't put his finger on. Something was familiar about him. His voice perhaps? And then he saw his eyebrows. "That's it! Dude, your eyebrows looks like that Spiderman guy's. Andrew something. Actually it's thicker and a little less sexy but..."

The guy laughed.

"What?" Alfred asked, not sure what was so funny.

"Well, you almost ran into me and that's what you have say?" He shook his head. "Ah, Americans."

The guy continued laughing until a coughing fit forced him to stop.

Alfred lightly slapped his back. "You okay, dude?"

"Yes, just a little ill." He waved his hand as a reassuring gesture. "Honestly, I don't know why I feel weak all of the sudden. It completely ruined my vacation. And I only have three days left too."

Alfred scratched his nose, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "You mean three days before you have to go back to England, right? Not like, three days to live."

"That's correct," the guy chuckled.

"Oh," Alfred sighed, relieved. "I thought you were gonna...That sucks. I went horseback riding once. It was fun until my allergies kicked in. Totally forgot about it. Well, have a cup of tea or something. You'll get well soon."

The guy chuckled again and then rolled away. Alfred watched as he waved goodbye over his head before he disappeared into his room. Alfred thought that it was time for him to disappear from the hospital too.

OOO

"We're back!" Alfred announced into the empty house. He took off his schoolbag and threw it on one of the leather couches, he threw his jacket next, but it landed on the floor.

"Al!" Alfred heard Matthew, who was following him, complained. He turned around to see his cousin picking up his jacket. "Really, you're such a slob."

"Oh, give me a break. It's Monday. Is that food I smell?"

Alfred hurried to the kitchen, where he found six plates were neatly prepared on the table.

"I think we have visitors."

"The usual ones, I guess."

Mattie was staring at the sink with a disgusted frown on his face. Then, he wet a towel and began cleaning the gas range. "What the hell is with this mess? Francis must have let someone else cook," He murmured as he carefully gathered bell pepper seeds on his hand and put them in the trash. "Where is he anyway?"

Alfred pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Francis' number.

"Hey, it's paella!" Mattie exclaimed as he snooped around the covered dish on the counter, dropping a shrimp into his mouth. "Antonio must be here."

The phone began ringing, and then Alfred heard erotic gasping from the garden. Alfred ended the call and nodded for Mattie to follow him. They found Francis, who had his phone to his ear, and Antonio playing chess in the back yard, under the opened gazebo.

"Al! Mattie! Welcome back," Francis greeted when he noticed them. He gestured with his phone. "The call was from you?"

"It was from Al." Matthew moved to his side, nudging him to make room on the bench, before wrapping his arms around his brother's waist and leaned his head on his arm.

Francis shuffled around to drape his arm over Mattie's shoulder and then asked, "Is there something wrong?"

"Legs hurt. Hungry." Mattie mumbled.

Antonio chuckled. "Rough day at school, huh?"

Alfred flopped down next to him. "Nah, Mattie just got chased by this girl at school."

Antonio laughed as he moved his knight in preparation to check Francis' king.

"Oh oh."

"Shh, Mattie. Francis might catch on."

"How rude, Toni," Francis said, pretending to pout. "I might not be a chess champion like you, but I'll have you know that I've won my fare share of sets before."

Antonio made a sound like he didn't believe what Francis said.

"Anyway," Francis said after castling. "How did the check-up go yesterday? Mattie said you locked yourself up in your room as soon as you came home."

Alfred, who was leaning on Antonio's side playing TrialX2 Winter on his phone, raised an eyebrow at Mattie, silently asking if he said anything about his scar. Matthew shook his head, then said, "He'll see it sooner or later."

"See what?" Antonio and Francis asked at the same time. Alfred glared at Mattie. But his cousin just kept talking.

"The scar from the accident. I saw it yesterday. It's pretty artistic."

"Mat-"

"What do you mean 'artistic'?" asked Antonio, who looked up from the board for the first time.

"It looks like an owl."

"An owl?"

"An owl."

"An o-"

"May we have a look?" Francis interjected.

Alfred glared at the three. Especially Mattie. The guy made no promises to keep his mouth shut about seeing the scar, but Alfred still felt somewhat betrayed. "Your maple syrup will suffer for this."

Mattie just sighed at the threat, which made Alfred pout even more.

"Don't make that face, cousin. It makes me want to cry." Francis teased. Alfred just rolled his eyes.

"Oh, you will cry after I'm done with you." Antonio commented as he knocked Francis' queen with his knight.

Alfred watched as Francis smiled and stared at Antonio. "I'm liking you more and more, _mon ami._"

Alfred hoped that Francis' attention would stay on his new found BFF, but as unlucky as he was, Francis soon turned on Alfred again.

"Come on, cousin. Let me see it. How bad could it be?"

Throwing his phone on the grass, Alfred held out his right arm and pulled his sleeves up. It was the only way to get Francis off his back. It's one thing they had in common with Arthur. Speaking of Arthur, Alfred realised that he hasn't seen the ghost since yesterday. Before Alfred could think more of Arthur, he heard Antonio's gasp.

"_Ai, caramba_." Antonio said as the took Alfred's arm. "That's one fugly scar."

"Toni, some tact please?"

"I'm sorry. I'm too blunt sometimes. It must have hurt." Alfred wondered whether Antonio was talking about his wound, or the comment. Antonio let go of his arm, only to be captured by Francis.

A frown formed on his face. "It was worse than I thought. How-"

Before anyone else could say anything, Alfred took his arm back and continued playing his phone. He didn't want to talk about it anymore. Thankfully, the other three got that. Francis and Antonio went back to their game. And Mattie just watched them. After Alfred's bike blew up a billion times, he ditched his phone and invited Mattie for a game of catch instead. The two passed the baseball back and forth with less speed and strength than they were satisfied with after Mattie accidentally broke one of the Jacques' garden gnomes. Francis didn't care if they'd brake all the tacky gnomes, but his dad would probably have a couple of words with them when he gets back, since they were gifts from a friend.

There were a couple of times when Alfred missed the ball, which was unusual. He was the ace in their school's baseball team, after all. He dropped it once when he was shocked by Francis' victory yell. The second time, the ball passed over his head when Francis screamed again. This time, it was a string of curses in French.

Mattie was about to catch the ball next when there was another scream. It didn't come from Francis, nor Antonio. The two older men looked at each other before dashing inside the house. Alfred and Mattie followed.

The four of them rushed to the kitchen, into the living room, up the stairs and into Alfred's room. There, they found the floor lamp knocked to the ground next to a sweaty, naked man with blond hair.

"Jones!" The man cried as he got up from the carpet. Alfred remained motionless just like the others. "Jones look!" He flailed his arms. "I can see my arms!"

"I can see more that your arms, my dear," Alfred heard Francis comment to his right, while he heard Mattie gasp behind him.

"Dude, there's a naked guy in your room."

"Thanks, captain obvious," would have been Alfred's answer to Antonio's statement if only he wasn't too busy trying not to freak out as the naked guy pressed a hand on his chest.

"I can touch you," the guy said with a little bit of laughter. "Can you touch me too?"

Alfred's eyes bulged out off its sockets as his hand was placed on the naked guy's chest. Alfred pulled back his hand immediately. The guy was obviously feeling hot since he was sweating bullets, but Alfred didn't expect his temperature to be insanely high. Who was this guy? Alfred's eyes roamed up and down the stranger's body. Then his eyes snapped back to the man's face. To his super thick eyebrows.

"Have we met before?" Alfred asked.

"You idiot! It's me, Arthur!"

Alfred's eyes widened even more and his jaw dropped to the floor. _No fucking way! Arthur was a wispy wobbly wind-spirit thing. He didn't have a young, lean, but well-toned human body! _But, looking at those clear green eyes..._It had to be Arthur_. Nobody else have eyes like those.

"Alfred," The worry in Francis' voice snapped Alfred out of his thoughts. "Do you know him?"

Alfred whirled around to face his cousins and Antonio, who all had a shocked, speechless expression on their faces. "Yeah. He's Arthur," he said, nodding his head, before roughly pushing the three out of his room. "Prepare another plate, will 'ya?"

He turned back to Arthur, who was looking at his hands. His breathing was rather erratic, like he was running out of air. But Alfred didn't care about that for now.

"Arthur," he said, not sure how to put his thoughts into words. "Please, don't get mad, but I wanted to do this for a long, long time."

Arthur looked at him, a small smile on his lips. "What is it?"

Alfred pulled back, then before Arthur could realise what's going to happen, Alfred's fist connected with Arthur's face. Arthur's naked body fell to the ground, blood trickling from his nose.

"That felt good," Alfred panted, before dragging Arthur's overheating body to the bathtub.

* * *

><p>I hoped you enjoyed this chapter.<p>

One last(?) note: I named the houses based on what they represent and not by their surnames. That's not how it's usually done, but, this is the way I do it.


	5. Arthur Kirkland

Hetalia belongs to Himaruya Hidekaz

* * *

><p>Arthur Kirkland was floating. His body felt light and…<em>What is this sensation I'm feeling?<em> He didn't know why, but it was hard for him to breathe. And his head was throbbing madly, and his heart beat fast against his chest. Arthur gasped for air, and then he felt a hand momentarily on his forehead. He could hear splashes, and a voice.

_"Another aeroplane. Another sunny place," _the voice was saying. No. Not saying. The sound was much more tuneful than simply talking. The voice was singing, Arthur realized. The voice continued:

"_I'm lucky, I know_

_But I wanna go home_

_Mmmm, I've got to go home."_

Arthur listened, intrigued and captivated as another voice joined in. This time, Arthur knew that voice.

"Let me go home

I'm just too far from where you are

I wanna come home."

Arthur opened his eyes, immediately searching for the owner of the voice, of the person who sang so wonderfully sad. He found him sitting on a covered seat, his long legs were crossed and his chin rested on his hand as he watched Arthur.

"Arthur? Are you alright?" Alfred asked. His voice was gentle, and kind. Not curt and indifferent as it has always been. Arthur almost laughed at hearing Alfred's voice that way; he always wanted to hear Alfred speak to him like that before, after all. But Arthur just smiled, since he was having difficulty breathing as it is, and tried to reach for Alfred. All the while the music kept playing somewhere.

"_And I'm surrounded by_

_A million people I_

_Still feel all alone_

_Oh, let me go home_

_Oh, I miss you, you know_

_Let me go home_

_I've had my run_

_Baby, I'm done."_

Arthur watched calmly as Alfred stood up, took a towel, and pressed it on his forehead. Arthur shivered as the cloth touched his skin.

"Dude, you're still burning up."

At Alfred's words, Arthur's eyes snapped back to the other man's face. He stared for a moment at those blue, innocent eyes. Then it dawned on him. Arthur quickly moved to slap Jones' hand away, but the moment he touched his skin, his head exploded. Arthur cringed back, but his hand would not let go of Jones' arm. Arthur's eyes were closed shut from the pain, but he could see things dancing behind his eyelids. There were hundreds of visions zipping past, Arthur could hardly keep up. He saw many things like a tall, skeletal, triangular structure piercing the blue sky, an astounding golden four-legged beast with black lines adorning its body, and an odd creature with green skin and huge black eyes. Aside from the visions, Arthur also heard people muttering; thousands of them all speaking at the same time. It reminded Arthur of the incident in his chambers, the moment when their creation- a sun as Jones would call it- failed. The moment he died.

Finally, after who knows how long, the pain Arthur's head abated. The visions and the noise stopped. He was gasping, trying to take in as much air as he could. He was aware of someone brushing his hair and calling his name. But there was only one thing he heard.

"_I gotta go home_

_Let me go home_

_It will all be all right_

_I'll be home tonight_

_I'm coming back home."_

The song ended, just as Arthur stared at Alfred's eyes and then lost his consciousness.

OOO

Despite the pain in his right arm, Alfred lunged forward to catch Arthur's head before it hit the edge of tub. He shook the guy a few times, calling out his name, but he didn't wake up.

"Geez," Alfred whined as he gently laid the guy's head. Arthur would, no doubt, give Alfred more problems now that he had a solid form. "What did you do now?" he thought out loud as he examined his scar, which had gone red and started burning when Arthur touched it. "Hey, Arthur!"

No response. _What the hell was that? _Alfred thought as he remembered the way Arthur stared at him before he passed out. _What a creepy dude._

Alfred stared at Arthur's messy blond hair, his huge eyebrows, his thin straight nose, and his pinkish lips. His eyes then moved to Arthur's hands, torso and his…Alfred frowned, and then looked at Arthur's whole body. Alfred was taller than the guy, and his shoulders were broader. So, thinking about proportions Alfred should have the bigger-

"Alfred?"

Alfred turned around at the sound of Mattie's voice.

"Alfred? Are you okay?"

Alfred turned the shower off, gave Arthur one last look, then closed the bathroom door behind him. Rolling his sleeves back down to cover his scar, Alfred yelled back, "Just a sec! Meet you downstairs."

Alfred found Francis, Mattie, and Antonio in the living room, lounging on the couch, heads bent together. Gilbert was also there, sitting on the beer dominated table as he smirked at his phone. Alfred lingered at the stairs for a moment, staring at the others' heads. It was bad enough that he had to explain things to his cousins and Antonio about Arthur, but now he had to deal with Gilbert too. Alfred groaned as he realised that Mathias was probably on his way there. Sometimes, Alfred's friends are a pain in the ass. Well, they always are; but in other people's ass. Not Alfred's. When Alfred decided that he wanted to get the explaining over with, he jumped over the last few steps and showed himself.

"When did you get here?" Alfred asked Gilbert.

His friend flipped his phone close, and then looked up with a broad smile. "I heard you brought home a gigolo boyfriend," he teased. Alfred struck out his tongue and flipped his finger at him before he went to get himself a Molson Canadian. _Honestly, why do I even hang out with Gilbert?_ Alfred asked himself. The proverb with the bird and the feathers popped into Alfred's mind.* Alfred slammed the fridge shut and returned to the living room. All eyes were on him.

"What?" Alfred snapped. The staring made the hair on his neck stand. "Stop staring!" Alfred ordered as he sat on one of Francis' Doshi Levien Capo chair, his body sinking into the brown felt.

Mattie leaned forward, his eyes curious. "So," he said, placing his chin on his knuckles. "Is he really a gigolo?"

"Aaargh! No! Arthur is not a gigolo. Don't believe anything Gilbert says."

Gilbert laughed and basically made out with his beer bottle with the way he drank. Alfred frowned, and then continued, "Just because he was naked and in my room it doesn't mean that he is a gigolo, nor is he my boyfriend." Gilbert and Antonio snickered. "Dude, cut it out!"

"Then what does it mean, little cousin?"

Alfred turned his attention to Francis. He had a good question. A question Alfred didn't have a believable answer for. "Well," Alfred began; gesturing with his bottle then scratched his nose as he racked his brain for an excuse. But before he could speak, the doorbell buzzed. "Crap."

Gilbert ran to the door, grinning as he jumped between Antonio and Mattie and over the couch. Alfred heard laughter form the hallway soon afterwards.

"So it's true?"

Alfred just sighed as he watched Mathias flop on the other Capo chair. What the hell is he supposed to do now?

"Alfred was about to explain before you interrupted," Francis answered him.

_Yeah, right_, Alfred thought. _Just leave me alone._

Gilbert threw a beer at Mathias, then took back his seat on the arm rest. "So, tell us how you met."

"Jesus fucking christ!" Alfred said, surprising everyone. "I just met Arthur, okay? He-he has nowhere to stay, and I helped him. Now, just stop it with jokes."

"I think we crossed the line." Alfred heard Antonio mutter.

"You're leaving? And I just got here, too." Mathias whined. Alfred flicked his forehead on his way to his room.

"Al? Alfred?"

Alfred ignored Mattie, climbing the stairs two at a time and locked the door behind him. That wasn't how he hoped things would go. But it got him out of the hot seat. So…

Alfred let himself fall face-first on the bed and groaned. _He got nowhere to stay? Really? How lame is that?_ He just blurted it out. He can't do anything about that now. He just has to tell Arthur to go with it. Alfred pulled out his phone to check the time. It was still 5: 15. He threw his phone and buried his face on the pillow. Screw the time. He got into an argument with Ivan at school that day, and now he had to deal with his friends. He was tired. And he was sleepy.

OOO

When Arthur woke up again, he realised he was in a bathtub full of water. He raised his arms, watching as the droplets tickled his skin as it glided downwards. Arthur laughed. He was not sure how he knew that the water was cold, and that his temperature was higher than what is healthy, and that the liquid coming from his body was called sweat. But Arthur was too happy about his newly acquired knowledge to care. He angled his arm so that he was looking at the light bulb through his fingers. It reminded him of the sun.

Smiling, Arthur stepped out of the tub then wriggled his toes as he watched the water soak the rug under his feet. Arthur walked slowly to the doorway, feeling the…heat from his feet transfer to the floor. As Arthur stared at the ground, he could feel the planet turning. It was very faint, but it was enough for him to know that in this world, he was considered to twenty three years old. Arthur scoffed. He was practically a baby!

With a small frown marring his face, Arthur stared at the golden doorknob, not sure how to use it. "Jones!" he called out, but nobody responded. Arthur sighed in exasperation as he closed his eyes. He knew it was somewhere in his mind, how to use a doorknob. In a few seconds, Arthur found it. He grabbed the object, turned, and then pulled.

"Aha!"

Arthur shivered as a cool wind brushed his body. He looked to his right to find a window open. He hurried to it and viewed the sky, which now turned slightly orange as the sun began to set. Arthur watched the street from his position. The street was paved with…concrete. Arthur marvelled at its smooth surface. The houses that lined the street were smaller that the houses back at his home, and seem to be made out of some kind of wood. Wood, Arthur repeated to himself. He believed that there was no wood on his home. Another wind blew, and Arthur closed his eyes and let the wind relieve his fever. For some time, Arthur stayed that way; arms on the window pane and his torso almost completely out the window. Once, Arthur heard distinctive meowing. Arthur copied the sound, but the beast - no, the animal that did it did not reply.

Arthur turned away from the window and surveyed Jones' room. He had been there countless times, but his vision in his 'ghost' state was never this vivid. The walls were painted with blue -just like Jones' eyes, covered with different posters of people in spandex or tights, and masks and helmets, and capes. It took a while for Arthur to remember their names; Captain America, Batman, Superman, and Iron Man. To Arthur's immediate left was Jones' cluttered desk. There were textbooks like, Physics 12, History 12, and Comparing Civilizations. They were neatly stacked in a corner and pushed against the wall. There was a black lamp next to it, bowed over scraps of paper and candy wrappers. Arthur picked up one of them and smelled it. Arthur crinkled his nose. It smelled sour and sweet at the same time. Arthur stared at the wrapper between his fingers, thinking about bringing it to his tongue, but thought better of it. _If Jones hasn't eaten it yet, then it is undoubtedly not edible_. Arthur frowned as he picked up a paper with neat, squat writings on it. The script was different from what Arthur learned as a child, but for some reason, he could read and understand Alfred's long explanation on why Star Wars was still popular. Arthur threw the paper back on the table and turned his attention elsewhere.

Next to the desk was the room Arthur had just came from; the bathroom. Then, opposite the window, was the entrance door, which was made of varnished wood. To the door's right was Jones' tall, black dresser, placed between lean floor lamps. Arthur turned his head more to the right, where his eyes fell on Jones, who was lying on his stomach, spread-eagled on the bed.

Arthur sat next to Jones, surprised as the bed bounced. Arthur laughed, and sat down again. He moved his legs up and down to make the bed continually bounce. "You have a tiny room, Jones," Arthur said, chuckling. "It is smaller than our prison cells. But it is cozy, and soft." Arthur patted the mattress, then looked at Jones' face. His face was squished by the pillow, which made his mouth open slightly and tilt. If only he could see Alfred like that. His knight was always so serious and…cold. Arthur laughed at the pun.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Arthur stood up from the bed and searched through Alfred's drawers for clothing that will fit him. The green shirt he found hung loosely on his shoulders, and the grey sweatpants he wore bunched around his feet. _I look silly. _

After Arthur folded the sweatpants hallway up his shin so as not to trip, he decided to take a look around the house. The first door he came upon, across from Jones' and on the other side of the stair case, was the entrance to Matthew's room. Arthur knew, because there was a wooden placard that read, "Please don't barge in and try to see me naked. Go to Francis' instead." Arthur took a peek at Matthew's room. It was more or less like Alfred's. The only difference were; Matthew's room was much more tidy and painted white, the single poster on the wall featured three men in dark clothing staring down at a grave, and there was a giant stuffed polar bear laying atop the red bed sheets. Arthur snagged the stuffed animal from the bed and held it high before wrapping his arms around it. It was rather smooth and soft when Arthur rubbed his face against its fur, and it didn't fight back, unlike _his _Matthew's tamed beast. The room smelled sweet too, Arthur noticed when he inhaled, unlike Alfred's, which smelled like body sprays and deodorant, and dirty socks.

Arthur went to look at Francis' room next, which was nestled between Alfred's and Matthew's room. It was bigger that the other rooms, which was understandable since there was an architect's table placed between the window and a book shelf. Aside from the clutter on the drafting table, Arthur was not surprised to find that Francis' room was very neat. The bed covers were stretched out and smoothed, the curtains were carefully pushed to the side of the window, and the clothes were pristinely hanged in Francis' closet. _You are the same wherever you are._

When Arthur had enough of Francis' room, he headed down the stairs, stretching out his arms to the side and running his palm against the beige-colored walls. He wished he could paint his home back in his world. His stone house, no matter how luxurious it was, was rather gloomy. Halfway through the staircase, the wall to Arthur's right ended, revealing the living room. Arthur stopped as he saw people eating in front of the television. There were two of them; Francis and Matthew. Arthur stepped into the kitchen silently. There was food on the table, Paella, Arthur recalled. And there were also square boxes containing…pizzas. Arthur ignored the food in favor of the Coke that Jones seemed to love so much. Before he managed to search the fridge, however, he got distracted by the magnets placed on it. He rearranged the letters, laughing as he spelled his name then added a strawberry at the end.

"Arthur?" Matthew asked uncertainly. Arthur turned and smiled, amused at Matthew's placidity. He could hear the shyness in his voice and see the kindness in his eyes.

"Hello, Matthew," Arthur greeted, "and Francis." Matthew looked rather surprised that he knows who he is, while Francis, who was leaning against the island with his arms folded, just winked at him.

"Oh. Oh, did Al tell you about us?" Matthew asked, scratching the back of head, making his wavy blond hair stand.

Arthur just smiled.

_"Il est étrange."_

"What do you mean by strange? Was that an insult?" Arthur looked at Francis.

A huge smile appeared on the other man's face. "It's not. You speak French?"

"What is French?" Arthur murmured, before turning back to the fridge and searched for a red can. He could hear Francis and Matthew whispering behind him, but he ignored them.

"My dear," Francis spoke after a while. "What are you looking for? I might be able to help you."

Arthur looked up at Francis, who leaned his arms on the door of the refrigerator, his silver chain-link bracelet clinking against the steel door.

"And what do you want in return?"

The question made Francis laugh for some reason. "What is so funny?"

Francis shook his head. "It seems that you have the wrong impression of me, my dear."

"Are you saying that you are willing to help me without some sort of payment?"

Francis cocked his head to the side, "Well…"

Arthur sighed. _Of course not._

"…I do have a question for you. Just one."

Arthur noticed that Matthew moved closer. "Maybe we shouldn't, Francis," he said.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "What is it that you want to know?"

A smile spread across Francis face, his blue eyes shining. "Is Alfred your boyfriend?"

Arthur frowned. He wouldn't exactly call Jones his 'friend'. His relationship with him was nothing conventional. The two of them often argue with each other, Arthur was frustrated with Jones most of the time, and they only agreed on one thing; to get Arthur back to his world. But, Arthur needed Jones, in more ways than one, he realised. At first, Jones was just a tool for him to get back home. But now that Arthur has been completely pulled into Jones' world, he needed his help to understand the way of their life; he needed his knowledge to-

_Jones' knowledge…_

"Arthur?"

Arthur blinked as Francis snapped his fingers in front of his face. "What? Oh, yes. I suppose he is my boy friend. Now, where's my Coke?"

"Haa," Francis chuckled as he made his way next to Arthur and opened a compartment at the bottom of the fridge. "Here is your drink, dearest."

Arthur took the can and hurriedly ran back to Jones' room. If Arthur's theory was right, then he might be able to access Jones' memories of the book he used to summon him. If he could do that, then he might go home soon.

OOO

"Good morning!"

Alfred's eyes snapped open the same time his door banged open. He sat up abruptly, meaning to tell the loud person to shut up, but he got interrupted by the pounding in his head. He felt like he had a hangover. _Didn't even fucking drink much._ He dropped his head on his hand, his fingers massaging his temple. He felt something move next to him, then he heard Arthur's voice.

"Good morning, Doctor Bonnefoy." he said.

Alfred's head snapped up, ignoring the pain in his head this time. His uncle was at the door, smiling at Arthur, who was standing at the foot of his bed, not caring about the fact that; he just got up from Alfred's bed, half naked and dishevelled, while his uncle witnessed everything. Alfred turned to his uncle to explain, knowing how things looked like. But his uncle, apparently, didn't need it.

"You must be Arthur," He said, holding out his hand. "I'm Jacques Bonnefoy, welcome to our home. Francis told me about you."

Alfred pushed the covers off himself. _Thank God I'm wearing my pants. _"Francis?"

Arthur stepped forward and smiled back. "It's nice to meet you, Doctor Bonnefoy. I'm sorry we didn't meet in a more appropriate manner." Alfred watched, speechless, as the two ignored him and continued being friendly with each other. "You have a lovely home, by the way."

"Thank you. You're welcome to stay here as long as you need to."

"What do you mean?" Alfred asked, breaking up Arthur's and his uncle's clasped hands. "Wait, no offense, uncle but what are you even doing in my room? You don't usually come up."

Both Arthur and Jacques turned to Alfred. "Well," Jacques began. "I came to talk to Arthur. I thought that you'd be up by now."

"What?" Alfred checked his watch. He woke up later than usual. _I guess no bath for today._ He rushed to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. Meanwhile, he listened to Arthur's and his uncle's conversation.

"Francis informed me that Alfred said you had no place to stay. I want you to know that you are welcome to stay here for as long as you need to."

Alfred spat the toothpaste bubbles. "You're okay with him staying here?" he asked, poking his head out the door.

Jacques shrugged. "Why not?"

Alfred heard Arthur chuckle. "I am grateful for your help, Doctor Bonnefoy."

Jacques laughed and waved his hands. "It's nothing. Why don't you join us for breakfast?"

"I'd love to."

Before Alfred could pull Arthur aside, the troublesome guy followed Jacques downstairs. Alfred groaned before throwing his tooth brush into the cabinet and quickly following downstairs.

"_Bonjour, petit cousin,"_ Francis greeted as Alfred sat across him. "Slept well?"

"You." Alfred glared at him, watching as Francis' eyes followed Arthur, who sat next to Alfred.

"Spaghetti for breakfast?" Arthur asked, twirling his fork in the pasta.

"Jamie brought it on the way this morning."

That caught Alfred's interest. "Jamie? Why didn't he stay?" he asked.

Jacques took a bite of his toast before answering, "He's going back to France."

"What? Without saying goodbye?"

"Well, you did run away from him in the hospital." Alfred turned his head to Francis.

"I hate you right now, don't talk to me."

Francis sighed while Jacques frowned. "Did you two have a fight?"

Just then, Mattie popped from the kitchen with a cheerful 'Good morning!' and a can of coke in his hand. He placed the drink next to Arthur before he took his seat next to Francis. "You like Coke, right?"

Arthur smiled at him. "Yes, I do. Is it true that it will explode if I shake it?"

"Um,"

Before anyone could say anything, Arthur shook the can and opened it. Jacques and Francis had an identical expression – eyes wide and mouths open- as they watched the drink bubble up and leak from the can to Arthur's hand. Meanwhile Arthur and Matthew were laughing like idiots.

"Arthur!"

The guy looked at Alfred and seemed to understand what Alfred wanted him to do.

"Forgive me. I just wanted to see it for myself." He stood up and brought the can to the sink. Alfred watched as Arthur wiped himself clean. He almost laughed along with the others, but then Francis said, "You found yourself a weird boyfriend, little cousin."

"Okay," Alfred slammed his hand on the table. "He's not my boyfriend. You got it all wrong!"

"He's not?" Matthew asked. Alfred turned at the guilty tone in his voice.

Jacques wiped his mouth with a napkin and crossed his arms. "Then who is he? Surely he's not a random guy you found in the street and just decided to let him stay here?"

"Wait, is that why you're cool about letting him stay here? Who even said he was my boyfriend?"

"Arthur admitted yesterday. Well, actually, I asked him and he said 'I suppose he is'."

"You did what?" Alfred snapped at Arthur, who was still occupied with his clothes.

"It's the truth, isn't it? After what we shared last night I don't consider our relationship anything less."

Everyone fell silent. Alfred almost heard a _click_ as Arthur's words sank into every one's mind. When Alfred saw the grin starting on Francis' face, he quickly left the table, grabbed Arthur by the hand, and dragged him to his room.

"What the hell was that?"

Alfred saw Arthur jump a little when he slammed the door shut.

"What? We are friends, aren't we?"

"Argh!" Alfred rubbed his face. "Didn't you hear what they said? They said boyfriend! Boyfriend!"

"Well, you are-" Arthur's eyes widened. "They meant 'lovers'?"

Alfred laughed humourlessly. "Don't tell me the whole share-your-knowledge-with-me didn't work? Look!" Alfred showed him his red arm. "The scar's still burning from last night. Do you know that you didn't let go of me until I basically pried your fingers off? Do you know how painful it was for me to have my memories sucked from my mind? How confusing it was for me to have your memories forced into my head?"

Arthur's face twisted in anger. "Of course I do! It happened to me too! Why did you think I fainted in the middle of it?"

"Argh!" Alfred rubbed his face. "Then why did you say I was your boyfriend?"

Arthur flopped down on the bed. "That was yesterday Jones. I didn't have the information I do now. I didn't know what 'boyfriend' really meant. Besides, it still takes a few seconds for me to shuffle through my mind. I've lived for hundreds of years, and now, you're memories are in here too." Arthur tapped his temple. "It's not exactly easy. I'm sorry I made unnecessary misunderstanding."

Alfred closed his eyes and took deep breaths. Then he shook his head. "No. It's not necessarily unnecessary." Arthur chuckled. "My uncle lets you stay here 'cause he thinks your my boyfriend. That's good news. I think. We'll just have to pretend."

Alfred looked at Arthur, who was staring back with an unfocused gaze. "Yeah. I can pretend," he said before lying down on the bed. "So, are we still going to the church after school like we planned last night?"

"We'll need to stop by the hospital first."

"The hospital?"

"Yeah. I remembered something when uncle brought up Jaime. I met the other Arthur Kirkland the day you got your body. I should've realised sooner. Nobody has huge eyebrows as yours."

Arthur tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowed. "What did you just say?"

"Nobody has beautiful green eyes like yours. Anyway, we need to check up on him. I have a bad feeling about this."

OOO

Alfred was out of the room before the second bell rang. there were two reasons why he was in a hurry to leave the room; one, Alfred did not enjoy his History class as much as he thought he would, thanks to the new boring teacher who gave them tons of bull crap to do but taught them jack squat, and he just wanted to get away. Two, Alfred had to answer Francis' call. Alfred pushed his way into the washroom, pressing a button on his phone.

"_Alfred,"_ Francis said. _"Arthur and I are in the back parking lot. Please hurry. Or else I'll be late for my date."_

"It's three. Isn't it too late and too early to go on a date?"

"_Actually, it's too late and too early to start anything. But not for me. Just hurry up, please?"_

The line went dead. Alfred quickly stopped by his locker to drop off his books and fetch his helmet then headed for the parking lot. It was easy enough to find Francis' silver Saturn Sky, mainly because everyone else' car sucked, and because Francis and Arthur were laughing really loud. Alfred waved his helmet to catch their attention.

"Oh, he's here," Alfred heard Francis say as he pushed himself off his convertible.

"You're having fun," Alfred commented as Arthur turned his smiling face to him.

"I am," Arthur answered simply before giving Francis a secretive smile.

_Okay then._ "Thanks for the favor, Francis."

"Anything for my dear cousin. Should I wait for Mattie? Or will he take the bus?"

"He'll take the bus. He made plans with Lili."

Francis smiled. "I see. I better be off then."

"Let's go, Arthur."

Alfred watched as Arthur got out of the car, noticing that Arthur was wearing a black vest over a white button down shirt. His tie was a mess and his black jeans looked too tight. He was also wearing Mattie's suede boat shoe.

"It suits him, doesn't it? Good thing we're almost the same size."

Arthur might have filled the clothes more than Francis did, but his cousin was right, it kind of suited Arthur. Alfred gave a shrug, which Francis replied with a laugh as he turned on his car. Alfred and Arthur stood side by side as they watched Francis drove off, his hair flying behind him.

"Where's your car?" Arthur asked when Francis was out of sight.

Alfred chuckled. "I don't have a car."

"You don't?"

Alfred headed to the front of the school, where his Hayabusa was parked among other motorcycles.

"A bike?" Arthur asked.

Alfred laughed and looked at Arthur. "Don't tell me you're scared to ride it?"

Arthur shook his head, but the frown on his face didn't convince Alfred. "Here," Alfred said as he handed Arthur the helmet and his back pack. "Carry my bag, will ya? And use the helmet. No need to be scared."

"It's just a too little open for my liking," Arthur explained as he adjusted the bag on his back.

Alfred chuckled as he readied the bike. When the engine roared to life, Arthur's frown deepened even more. Alfred revved the engine a little bit, which made Arthur flinch a little. "Oh, come on. Don't be a baby. Put on the helmet and climb on."

Arthur did so, although reluctantly. Alfred bit back a laugh as Arthur climbed on awkwardly, having difficulty in straddling the bike in his tight pants. Immediately after he took his seat, Alfred felt strong arms wrap around his waist. "Not so tight," Alfred said, not even sure if Arthur heard him since his grip didn't loosen._ Good grief._

"Ready?" Alfred called over his shoulder, but didn't wait for a reply before he released the clutch. It could have been Alfred's imagination, but Arthur might have let out a yelp as the bike moved froward.

By the time the two arrived at the hospital, Alfred's back was sweating. Throughout the way, Arthur never once released his hold on him, and since Arthur's temperature hasn't completely gone down yet, Alfred felt like he was being hugged by a heater. He was relieved when he got his back cooled when they finally got off the bike. Arthur, Alfred was sure, was equally relieved. Although for a different reason.

The two easily snuck into the hospital, seeing as it was a busy day. And if any of the staff noticed the two and decided to question them, they would easily believe whatever excuse Alfred told them as long as he mentions his uncle. That day, Alfred's excuse was: "I'm showing my boyfriend around just like my uncle suggested." Alfred felt lucky that no one approached them.

After a few wrong turns, they got to the floor where Alfred bumped into the other Arthur. Alfred ran to the room where he remembered the guy disappear into. It was empty.

"He's not here. Try searching for the other rooms."

Alfred and Arthur each picked a side and began peering into each room on the floor. Neither saw the person the were looking for.

"Are you sure this is the floor?" Arthur asked, sitting in the waiting area.

"Yes. There's a crack on that tile near that exit door." Alfred pointed at the end of the hall. "I tripped on it before."

"Do you think he's already dead?"

"Don't say that!"

"Well, it's only logical, isn't it? Like I said before, I've done some research on parallel worlds and from what I've read, it is impossible for two alternate selves to live in the same world, much less meet each other. It's not allowed. There are going to be consequences. Your scientists seem to agree."

Alfred sighed. "That's just in movies. We should just ask the front desk. We should have done that in the first place."

Arthur uncrossed his arms and pushed himself off the wall. "Very well, then."

Alfred headed for the elevator, expecting Arthur to follow him.

"And, Jones?"Alfred heard Arthur's voice some steps behind him.

Without turning back, he answered, "Yeah?"

"Can I push the buttons this time?"

Alfred laughed. "Then open the door for me."

"Don't you dare order me around," Artur huffed but ran in front of Alfred to push the 'down' button.

For some reason, it took a while before the elevator got to their floor. Alfred could see that Arthur was getting impatient to ride it again. He enjoyed their ride up, after all. From the corner of his eye, Alfred noticed Arthur preparing to push the button again. "I think four times is enough, Arthur," Alfred said. The other guy looked up at him and pouted, which made Alfred smile.

When the _ding! _sounded, and the door opened, a smile broke into Arthur's face. He ran ahead of Alfred.

"Which button should I press?"

"The 'M' one."

The expression on Arthur's face made Alfred want to either slap his own face or grab Arthur's face and pinch his cheeks. Instead of doing any of the two, Alfred shoved his hand into his back pockets and suggested, "Try jumping before we hit our floor. You'll feel weightless. Like flying." Arthur looked at him. His face clearly showed that he didn't believe Alfred. "Trust me."

Alfred looked up and watched the countdown. "Get ready," He said when they were on the fourth floor. "Bend your knees..."

_3..._

Alfred looked back at Arthur, who had his wide eyes glued to the red numbers.

_2..._

Arthur's smile got bigger in anticipation. And Alfred found himself chuckling.

_1..._

"Jump!"

At the same time, Alfred and Arthur left the ground, and for an instant, they were falling. The compartment shook as the two of them landed heavily. Arthur almost lost his footing but managed to hold on to Alfred's shoulder.

"I'm dizzy," he said, stepping out. Alfred only laughed. "No, really. I'm serious, Jones."

"Better take a seat then. Over there," Alfred pointed at a bench close to the exit. "Wait for me there."

Arthur nodded and left. When Alfred was sure Arthur manage to get to the seat, he headed straight to the front desk, where he found Anna. The senior nurse looked up when Alfred greeted her.

"Alfred?" she blinked over her glasses.

"Nice to see you again, miss Ann." Alfred watched as a big smile formed on the nurse's face.

"Still using my old nickname?"

"You'll always be miss Ann to me."

That made her laugh. "You've grown a lot since I last saw you. Well, then, what brings you here? Visiting Doctor Bonnefoy?"

"No. He has night shift today. I came here to talk to a friend. I bumped into him once when my uncle dragged me here the last time. But he's not in his room."

Alfred watched as Ann's thin fingers slapped on the keys of her computer. "What's his name?"

Alfred took a deep breath. "Arthur Kirkland."

Seconds passed. Ann did more clicking. More scrolling. Then more typing. Finally, she looked up. "Alfred, he's gone-"

"What? That's-"

Ann cleared her throat. "As I was saying, he's gone back to London."

Alfred blinked, his hand on his chest. "He's alright then?"

Ann's hesitation made Alfred's heart beat faster even more. "He went into a coma in the evening on the tenth of October."

"That's the other day." _The same day I met him and the same day Arthur became solid._

"Yes. They transported him back to London, where their family specialist could look after him."

Alfred rubbed his faced._ In a coma? Really?_ _Looks like Arthur was right. If he doesn't go back to his world, the other Arthur might die._

Alfred could faintly hear Ann assuring him that Arthur would likely recover, but he shook his head and politely thanked her then left. Arthur stood up when he saw him approaching.

"He's in London. And in a coma."

"Comatose?"

Alfred nodded. Nobody said anything on the way back home. But Alfred knew that he and Arthur ended up with the same conclusion. When two alternate selves ended up in one wold, the weaker one gets eliminated.

OOO

Alfred and Arthur decided to postpone their trip to the church again. After what they just learned at the hospital, Alfred was drained and was not in the mood to drive for an hour to a creepy deserted church. The two arrived home to find Francis and Jacques carrying a mattress down to the basement.

"Pa! Put more effort into it, will you? I feel like I'm the only one carrying the weight." Alfred heard Francis complain in French.

Jacques grunted. "I'm not as young as used to be, you know."

"Need some help?"

"Alfred!" Francis exclaimed, switching to English, somewhere behind the mattress. "Thank goodness you're here. Will you take Pa's place, please? He's not much help in bringing the mattress back down."

"I'm still your father, Francis," Jacques said, as he made space for Alfred. "Arthur! How was the trip?"

Francis and Alfred carefully maneuvered the bed down the narrow staircase and onto the frame. All the while his uncle and Arthur seemed content to just watch and swap stories. By the time Francis and Alfred were done, they were out of breath.

"Why did you bring it up in the first place?"

"Well," Francis said between pants. "We needed to air it out. For Arthur. He needs to have his own room, no?"

A brief flash of a cave entrance and stone walls appeared suddenly on in Alfred's mind. "No," he blurted out.

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, we can't let Arthur sleep in a basement." _He already has too much of underground._ "It's cold and dark."

"I like the cold, actually. Besides this room is bigger than your room."

Alfred turned around to find his uncle and Arthur on the stairs. Arthur went around the furnished room. Checking out the double-sized bed, the dresser, the bathroom, the sofa, and the flat screen TV.

"I like this room."

Jacques clapped him on the shoulder, laughing. "Then, from now on, you'll be sleeping here," he said before climbing back up. "What's for dinner Francis?"

Francis rolled his eyes. _"My God, I wonder when he started seeing me as his chef."_

"_Well, you are an excellent cook."_

Alfred's head snapped to Arthur. He was surprised to hear him speak French and even more surprised that he just complimented Francis. "You never say nice things about me."

The other two laughed, which made Alfred pout.

"Oh, little cousin." Francis patted Alfred's cheek before following his father upstairs. "Oh, by the way, there are bed covers in the top drawer. I'll leave you two love birds for now. I'll call when dinner is ready. Later!"

"Oh, wait! You're back early. How was the date?"

Francis backed a few steps, and while retying his hair, he simply said, "She kept comparing me to her ex-boyfriend, so I told her I didn't have time for her bitching and left."

Arthur raised an eyebrow at Alfred, who replied with a shrug.

After the two finished making the bed, Arthur threw himself on it, giggling as he bounced. His laughter reminded Alfred of the scene in the parking lot earlier that day.

"Hey, Arthur," he said, lying down next to the guy.

"Yes, Jones?"

"What where you laughing about with Francis when you came to school?"

"Hm? Oh, he asked me why I was naked the first time he saw me."

Alfred gave Arthur a side-ward glance. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him that I was drunk, lost my luggage, and ended up taking my clothes off on the way here. Then I told him that I easily snuck into your house because I was trained in covert operations since I was small."

"And he believed you?"

"People do it all the time, don't they? Getting drunk, I mean."

Alfred chuckled. "You know what else people do?"

"What else?"

"They lie." Alfred turned to Arthur with a mock disapproval on his face.

"Oh, did you want to tell the truth, then?"Arthur teased back. Then his tone became serious. "I guess we'll just have to lie until this is over, right?"

"Guess so."

"Jones?"

Alfred turned to Arthur, who was staring at him with a frown.

"Make a promise with me, Jones."

"What promise?"

"We won't lie to each other. No keeping secrets either."

Alfred smiled. "It's not like I can keep secrets from you. All you need to do is touch my scar and you'll be able to see into my mind."

Arthur pressed his lips in a tight line. "Jones."

"Okay, okay." Alfred sighed. "No lies, no secrets. We're in this together, after all."

* * *

><p>Thank you for reading. Thanks also for the reviews, favourites and follows.<p>

*Birds of the same feather flock together.

p.s. Notice how Arthur says 'Alfred' in the beginning and not 'Jones'?


	6. Grounded

Hetalia©Hidekaz Himaruya

* * *

><p>Alfred woke up the next morning to someone tugging on his big toe and nagging him to wake up. Alfred reluctantly opened his eyes to see Arthur at the foot of his bed. Alfred grunted in response and pulled his feet out of Arthur's reach then glanced at the time. It was still 6: 50. He wasn't supposed to wake up 'till seven. "Kill the lights will 'ya?" Alfred sighed and fell back on the pillows. He still could have another ten minutes to sleep. But Arthur didn't let him. As he was just about to fall back to sleep, Alfred received a slap on the face.<p>

He jerked up to a sitting position. "That's twice now!" Alfred roared. "You've been slapping me awake for two days straight. What's wrong with you?"

"Arthur rolled his eyes. "There is no other effective way to wake you up. I've tried. Besides, it's time for school."

"You're not my dad!"

"Thank goodness for that."

Alfred rubbed his left cheek. It still hurt from the slap Arthur gave him the night they did the 'memory sync'. Alfred suspected that Arthur remembered the punch and he was just getting back at him. Alfred looked at Arthur from head to toe. He was wearing a black cardigan over a graphic tee, paired with red chinos. And his hair was fluffier than usual.

"Mattie dressed you up today?" Alfred asked groggily.

Arthur frowned as he looked at himself. "Uh, yes. He prepared the clothes for me. Then he blow-dried my hair. Do I look silly?"

"You always look silly to me," Alfred mumbled. "Going somewhere then?"

Arthur stood straight, well, straighter than he usually does and matter-of-factly said, "I'll come to school with you. That way, we can go directly to the church afterward."

_Why do want to go to that freaky place so much? _Alfred wanted to ask, but he stopped himself. If he were there one who was thrown into an unknown world where everything is just so different, he'll want to get the hell away from there ASAP.

"Right," Alfred answered simply, dragging himself to the shower.

o o o

Breakfast was less crazy, to Alfred's relief. Mattie was eating in silence; Francis joined them at the table instead of eating on the couch, watching TV. And Jacques kept talking to Arthur, making him feel welcome. His uncle's hospitality toward Arthur was great and all, but Alfred couldn't help being bothered by one thing. Throughout the meal, Jacques talked to Arthur about how he slept last night, how he was coping, or how he was 'dealing' with Alfred – a conversation Alfred quickly changed. Jacques kept asking Arthur little questions like that. But he never once asked about his family, nor his school or work, or how he met Alfred. Not even how he managed to be homeless. Nothing about his personal background. Isn't that what people normally ask about your boyfr- someone you just met? A thought popped into Alfred's mind. He quickly excused himself from the table and dragged Arthur halfway up the stairs.

"Hey," Alfred whispered when he got Arthur alone.

"What?" Arthur hissed, his glare matching Alfred's. "I haven't finished my cereal yet."

_What a kid. _Alfred pressed two fingers to his forehead to smoothen his frown. "I know. Answer my question, and I'll let you go back to your food. Did you use magic on my family?"

Arthur frowned, and then his lips opened into a tiny 'o'. Alfred could see that he was upset. _Was I too harsh?_ Arthur looked down, then up again. He shook his head.

"I didn't use magic," Arthur murmured. "I don't think I can anymore."

Alfred breathed through his teeth. That didn't sound good. "What do you mean?"

"Last night, I was bouncing the tennis ball you gave me off the wall. Then Matthew startled me and I missed, it went under the dresser. I tried to use magic to get the ball back. But it took a longer time for me to access my power."

"How long does it usually take for you to 'access' your power?"

Arthur shook his head. "It's instant, like lifting a finger."

"Am I the only one who has a bad feeling about this?"

"Anyways, it might just be a temporary fluke."

Alfred took a deep breath. When he hung his head, he unexpectedly rammed his forehead against Arthur's.

"Shit!" Alfred spat, rubbing his head as he backed off from the guy.

"Argh! Couldn't you move gentler? You really are a klutz, Jones."

"Hey! It's your fault for standing so close."

"Excuse me? You were the one who pressed up against me! You were basically pushing me into the wall!"

"I-"

"We can hear you, you know."

Alfred and Arthur shut up as Mattie passed by them on his way to the living room. Alfred risked a peek into the kitchen, where Francis was smiling behind his orange juice. Alfred let out his breath when he didn't see his uncle in the kitchen.

"At least uncle didn't hear it." Alfred turned back to Arthur, who had his face covered with his hand. "Did I hit your nose? What's up with you?" Alfred moved his hand away to look at the guy's face, but Arthur only shook his head in response. "Well then, try doing magic again later. You can go back to eat now."

"Lost my appetite."

Alfred stared at Arthur for a while, and Arthur stared back. Alfred really had nothing to say, but Arthur looked like he was expecting something from him.

"What did you saying?" Arthur asked; his head tilted as if he was trying to listen.

"I didn't say anything."

"I thought you called my name."

Alfred shook his head. "No. No, I didn't say anything."

"Oh. Will you let go of my hand then?"

"Sorry." Alfred scratched his nose, unsure of what to do. He thought of something that he should be doing; like, fixing up his school bag. But he'd already done that last night, after doing all his homework. So, there was only one thing left. "I, uh, I'm gonna go brush my teeth." Alfred slowly went up the stairs, and then looked at Arthur to remind him to get the spare helmet in the basement. But Arthur quickly looked at his feet when Alfred turned back. Alfred noticed that Arthur's face and neck were red. _He still hasn't gotten used to the temperature, huh?_

"Are you still heating up?"

Arthur's head snapped up. "What?" he asked nervously.

Alfred frowned. "Dude, if you're feeling hot just take your jacket off."

"What? I, oh. But, you're supposed to wear this type of clothing during this month of the year, right?"

Alfred snorted. _Jeez, as if you need to get warm. It's probably as hot here as hell for you. _"Fuck the weather, man."

"Fuck the weather…" Alfred heard Arthur repeat under his breath. He chuckled; there was something amusing about the way Arthur cursed.

"Be back in a few." Alfred said before jogging up the rest of the way. "Oh, and don't forget the helmet!"

By the time Alfred was done, Francis and Jacques were gone and Arthur and Mattie were chatting at the front gate. They were talking animatedly and Matthew even playfully punched Arthur's arm. Arthur obviously liked Mattie, and Mattie seems to be comfortable with Arthur. _When the hell did these two became so close?_

"I'm going to take the bus with Matthew," Arthur announced as Alfred got to them. He raised an eyebrow.

"Still scared to ride a bike?"

"No. I want to try the public transportation."

"He's very excited about it," Mattie added.

"I am."

Alfred looked back and forth between his cousin and Arthur, then his eyes settled on Arthur.

"You really want to?"

"I do."

Alfred sighed, and then chucked his bike keys to Matthew, who deftly caught it. "Let's switch places."

"What?" the two guys asked at the same time.

"No! I want to go with Matthew. Not you."

"That hurts you know."

"That's what you get for forcing yourself on someone," Mattie said.

Alfred gasped. "I did not force myself on anyone! Argh! Just give me your pass."

Matthew pursed his lips and pretended to think. "Hmm. You just can't leave Arthur alone, can you?"

"Yeah, that's right." _That is kind of right._ "Now give me your pass."

"I don't know…."

"I'll get you a season 8 DVD as soon as it comes out," Alfred bribed.

"How dare you use my obsession against me!" Matthew hissed, shaking his head dramatically. But he quickly handed his pass over. "Sorry, Arthur. You know how I feel about the boys."

Arthur smiled kindly at him. "It's fine. Alfred's being a jerk."

"He is."

"I'm here, 'ya know?"

"Yeah, yeah. You two better go. Or you'll miss the bus."

When Mattie disappeared behind the house, Alfred turned on to Arthur. "You meant that?"

Arthur had his eyes squinted against the sun, but Alfred could still see his green irises. In fact, they were even more prominent in the light. "Meant what?"

"That you don't want to ride with me."

Arthur laughed. "Are you jealous?"

"No." Alfred actually was, but he didn't know why and he didn't want to admit it. "I just don't want you to get too close to any of my family. Especially Mattie."

Arthur lifted his chin, a sign that he was 'crossed', as Arthur would put it. "And why not?"

"Because, Mattie gets easily attached to people, and you're going to disappear one day, when you go back to where you came from. And I won't be able to explain it to him."

Arthur visibly deflated at Alfred's words. _Are they really that close already? _

"We had better go. The bus stop is this way, yes?" Before Alfred could answer, Arthur walked off. Alfred walked behind him for the whole three blocks, feeling like a douche for telling Arthur to stay away. But he had a point, didn't he? It's the same reason why he ditched Arthur last night just when they began to really talk. If Alfred was being honest with himself, he'd admit that he was just as easily attached to people as Matthew was, and that he was kind of- just a little bit- getting used to Arthur's company. _Which is why I need to get the guy back to his world before I trip and fall for him. Did I just say 'fall for him'? Wait, what?_

"Jones!"

Alfred shook his head.

"The bus is here!" Arthur began to run for the remaining meters, kicking up dried leaves in his wake. Alfred followed suit. They arrived at the bus stop just in time for the bus to stop.

"You have change?"

Arthur jingled the coins in his hand.

"Right. Get in then. You know how to do it right?"

Arthur rolled his eyes in response before stepping inside the bus and dropping the coins into the slot. As the coins rattled, Arthur glanced around the bus, looking like an idiot.

"Quit staring at people. Stop being weird, will 'ya?"

"You've been telling me what to do for quite some time now. Stop it. It's starting to get on my nerves."

Alfred groaned. _Why does Arthur have to be so difficult?_

"I found a seat." Arthur announced as he was just about to plop down.

"Don't seat there."

"Why not? It's perfectly empty."

Alfred grabbed Arthur's hand and dragged him to the back of the bus as far as they could go. "They're for the old people and the disabled."

"I see neither," Arthur deadpanned as he slapped Alfred's hand away from his.

"What the hell? Stop hitting me. Anyway, it's reserved for them."

"I don't see why you give your old people such importance. They are frail and they can't contribute to the state any longer."

_What's with the attitude?_ "Dude!" The woman to Alfred's left lifted an eyebrow. He smiled at her apologetically and lowered his voice. "That's just not right! What the hell to you do with your old people? Line them up and shoot them?"

"They either become kings or queens."

"What?"

"The older we get, the greater our potential will be. Why do you think the eldest of us rules? Unlike you humans, we do not weaken when we age." Arthur scoffed. "We don't even age at the same rate as you do."

Alfred wrinkled his nose at Arthur's attitude. He has no idea how to handle Arthur's temperament.

Ten minutes into the ride and Arthur remained silent. No matter what Alfred said, he'd just grunt or roll his eyes. The silence wouldn't have bothered Alfred as much if only Arthur didn't completely ignore him! It kind of pissed him off to see Arthur turn his back to him and treat him like everyone else, yet he was buddy-buddy with Mattie! And why should he be bothered about that in the first place?

"Ar-" Alfred tightened his grip on the hand hold as the bus stopped. The people along the isle shuffled awkwardly and pushed past each other, trying to make space for the new passengers. Before long, the distance Arthur made between himself and Alfred was gone.

"Hey." Alfred said, hoping for a response.

"Is the bus always this full?" Arthur asked, irritated.

It wasn't the kind of response Alfred was hoping for, but it was a start.

"Yeah. Especially on weekdays."

"How long before we get to your school?"

"We haven't even gone a quarter of the way."

"How long?"

Alfred sighed. "An hour and a half."

Arthur went back to ignoring him after that. Alfred was about to let him be when the bus stopped again. Arthur, who didn't have a handhold stumbled forward, almost knocking into Alfred. Alfred held a smile in as Arthur looked up at him, his face red with annoyance.

"Is Your Majesty not used to mingling with the common people?"

Arthur jerked again as a guy hit him on the back with his bag. The way Arthur turned to the man made Alfred anxious. _Oh, please don't punch him._

Thankfully, he didn't. But he probably gave the guy a death glare since he moved back a few steps looking terrified.

When Arthur turned back to Alfred, his face went back to its usual calm expression. "The people in my world wouldn't dare to get into close proximity to me, which is the reasonable thing to do if you value your life. But, here…" Arthur looked around him then spread his feet apart to balance, trying to balance himself. "They keep jostling me."

"You could hold on to me if you want."

Arthur glared at Alfred sideways, looking like he wanted to say a particularly harsh remark, but he just moved closer and grabbed on to Alfred's arm. For some reason, the way Arthur turned his face away made Alfred smile.

He pinched Arthur's cheek and coed, "It's okay, I won't let anyone push you around anym-Ow ow ow!"

"Stop babying me." Arthur dug his nail into Alfred's arm harder, almost making it go numb.

"Fine, fine! Promise, I won't!"

"What was that?"

"I'll stop babying you, okay?"

Arthur smirked then loosened his grip, but he didn't let go.

o o o

"Don't go anywhere,'kay?"

"You're doing it again, Jones."

Alfred looked around the almost empty library, waiting for Mattie to pop up. He should've arrived at school first, but he was still MIA. He didn't text either.

"I'm serious. Don't leave here until I come for you."

"I'm not your pet, Jones! Stop talking to me like I am one."

Alfred sighed. He can't help it though. Arthur can be unpredictable at times. He just wanted to make sure Arthur won't do anything stupid, like make soda cans explode just for his own amusement. "Fine, just…" Alfred pulled a chair and pushed Arthur into it. "…stay here. Read some books, whatever, don't wander around."

"I'll do just that if you don't watch the way you're talking to me."

"Are you still mad at me? Why are you even mad at me?"

"Lovers' spat?"

Alfred turned around just in time to see Natalia slip into one of the library cubicles. _Great, another pain in the ass. _

"Who's the cutie?" She tilted her head to take a peek at Arthur. Alfred automatically turned his body toward Natalia, blocking Arthur from her view.

"What are you doing here, _Nat_?" Alfred snapped back at her.

"What do you mean? I study here."

"It's not like you're going to your classes."

Natalia smirked, and then gathered her long blond hair on one shoulder. She leaned back on the chair and crossed her bare legs, her stilettos bumping into his shin. "Well, what can I say? I saw you come in and I came to say hello since I missed you so much. Life's not as fun without you."

"Guess you just have to deal with it."

"Why are you acting so cold to me? You're not the same person I met four years ago, I get that. And you found a new lover, fine. But that doesn't mean you could just treat me like a stranger."

Alfred felt Arthur's eyes on his back, while Natalia just smiled coyly at him. Alfred gave her a warning look. She reached up to run a finger on Alfred's bottom lip. He hated the way he shivered slightly at the touch.

"That look on your face right now turns me on, you know that? Too bad we got interrupted that night."

Memories of the 11th grade PE camping trip flashed in Alfred's mind; him and Natalia, alone in a cabin. Alfred tied to bed. Natalia crawling over him, with a fucking knife in her hand. _God that was as hot as it was scary._

Alfred glared even more, hoping that his face wasn't red.

"Please leave."

Natalia stood up, just as graceful as ever. She patted her short black dress, flattening the creases that aren't there. She looked up straight to Alfred's eyes. "Make me."

Alfred locked eyes with her, silently telling her to go away, but she was just as stubborn as Alfred is. Their staring contest was broken when Alfred heard a gasp that made him look away. Behind Natalia was Mattie, holding a coffee cup in one hand and a donut bag in the other. He was pointedly staring at Nat, whose smirk just got nastier.

Before Natalia could make a move, Alfred was already in front of Mattie. Sure, Arthur was kind of exposed, but Alfred made a promise to Mattie that he won't let Natalia get close to him again.

"Look, I don't want another fight with your brother. Just leave, will you?"

"Still very protective, I see. No worries, I just want to greet to little Matt-"

Natalia's words and outstretched right hand was stopped by Arthur. There was an awkward silence where everyone was probably wondering why Arthur suddenly stepped in instead of just watching like he did.

It was Natalia who spoke first. "Came to play? Tell me, what's your name?"

"I have no reason to answer you."

"Aw, c'mon. I just want to know you better." Just as Natalia said the words, Alfred noticed the little twitch of her finger.

"You better leave. It is obvious that Jones and Matthew do not want your company."

"How about you?" There was that twitch again, then Natalia frowned. Alfred realized what was going on.

"Arthur, let go or you'll break her wrist."

Arthur just looked sideways at Alfred, sending that familiar ice-y tingle on his neck, and then turned his attention back to Natalia.

"Leave," Arthur commanded. Alfred stared at him, amazed and slightly scared at Arthur's cold tone. The way he towered over Natalia - back straight, shoulders back and feet apart- with his grip tight around her wrist, and the way his eyes bored calmly into Natalia's, Alfred couldn't help but be impressed by Arthur's undoubted yet subtle dominance. Alfred realized that this must be the real Arthur; the practically immortal sorcerer who rules a nation.

Natalia blinked once, then spat, "Fine."

Arthur let her wrist drop, then lowered his voice and said, "Never come near my friends ever again."

Natalia smirked, but it was less convincing now with the way she rubbed her probably bruised wrist.

"See you around?"

"Better not," Alfred said.

"Sheez, brighten up, cowboy. Don't worry; I won't mention anything to Ivan. Nice seeing you two boys again. Say hello to Francis for me. And it was nice meeting you, Alfred's new fuck buddy."

o o o

Alfred trudged up the hill, his hands inside his pockets, as he breathed from his mouth. Arthur went back to be being silent again, which left Alfred nothing to do but play with his breath. He was so bored that watching the smoke he was creating was actually entertaining him more than usual.

Arthur was walking ahead of him. Alfred tried to walk next to him once, but he got glared at, so he decided to give him some space. But he figured that an hour long bike ride full off silence is enough space already.

"Are you okay?" Alfred yelled out to Arthur. Alfred already pissed the guy off this morning, then Natalia had to make things worse. Alfred guessed from the murderous way Arthur had watched Natalia go that he didn't take her comment lightly. _He must be full of it right now. The day isn't even nearly over._ "Arthur, talk to me, man."

"Jones, shut up. I am having a head ache."

Alfred picked up his pace. "You okay?"

"I just said that my head hurts!"

"No, I meant, do you still want to go to the church?"

Arthur stopped in his tracks. "Of course. We are literally just a few more steps away from it." He gestured at the church's arched roof, which was peeking out from the trees.

Alfred finally caught up with Arthur. He grabbed the guy by the shoulders and took a good long look at him. He was paler than normal, and a frown creased his brow. Alfred pushed a finger to Arthur's forehead, only to be swatted away.

"I'm sorry, okay."

"You say that a lot."

"I know. The thing I said this morning was rude. I'm also sorry that you had to meet Natalia. The thing she said…"

"It was an odd comment. We haven't even kissed yet." Alfred frowned at the seriousness in Arthur's voice and expression.

"Ookay. So stop frowning and looking all grumpy. It doesn't suite you."

"Is that so? Then what do you suppose 'suites' me?"

"Cool, calm, collected. How about you give me a happy face?" Arthur snorted then continued to walk. Alfred followed. "Like that time in the elevator. You had a huge grin on your face. It was totally cute."

Alfred stopped short when he realized what he blurted out. But Arthur just continued to walk. "Why do you think I'm always grumpy?" Arthur glanced over his shoulder at Alfred. "If you want to see me smile, then make me."

"Is that a challenge?" Alfred asked, but Arthur didn't hear him since he went off again. "Hey, don't leave me behind!"

"Move it, fatass."

"Fatass? Where the hell did you get that? Did Mattie teach you?"

"I didn't learn it from anyone. I just simply observe."

Alfred took a feel at his butt. It didn't seem that big to him. In fact, he thought they were perfect! The time he spends working out would be useless if they weren't.

"It's not fat at all!" Alfred yelled defensively as he kicked a stone from his path. "You're just making me feel bad. How would you feel if I called you eyebrows, huh? You know what? Maybe I'm gonna call you that!"

Arthur didn't respond to any of Alfred's jibes, which surprised Alfred. He figured that Arthur loved to make remarks so much that he'd never miss a chance to make a comeback. But he was just walking silently ahead of him. Sometimes he'd rubbed his temple, or look back at Alfred, frowning.

_Must be one hell of a headache._

It was like that until they reached the church. If Arthur wanted to be alone, then fine, Alfred backed away. But he can't help but feel that there was something off about him. Or maybe it was just the creepy vibe of the ruins. This was why Alfred didn't want to return. The whole place was dead silent. There was no wind, no birds, but there was always that fog that hovers, unmoving, over the ground. Most of the trees that fringed the dirt path were even dying or already dead. Then there's the rubble of the old church that looks haunted with an overgrown graveyard as a backyard. Why the hell did Alfred even want to go to such place?

"I don't understand myself sometimes."

Alfred stopped staring into the small forest and brought his eyes back to Arthur. But the guy wasn't there anymore. "Damn it, Arthur! I told you not to leave me behind!"

Alfred ran to catch up to Arthur, but before he got to the rusting remains of the church's gate, he got thrown back a few yards away as the whole ruin was blown to pieces. Rocks and dust bit into Alfred's cheek and palms as he rolled downhill until his shoulder hit a tree.

"A-Arthur!" He screamed when it was calm again, spitting out blood from his beaten tongue. He squinted and crawled around for his glasses, while calling out to Arthur again. There was no reply. When Alfred finally found his glasses, which was cracked and crooked, it didn't improve much of his vision. There was nothing seen beyond all the dust flying around. Leaning his back on a trunk, Alfred checked for some injuries. He could feel all his limbs, but he might have twisted his left wrist. His back and shoulders felt bruised, his tongue doesn't seem to stop bleeding and his face was scratched. _Damn it, Arthur! You better be fine!_

Alfred spat out another glob of blood and hauled himself up. When the dust finally cleared, Alfred's jaw dropped upon seeing the whole church in a pile of rubble. Nothing was left of it other than the stones that used to form the base of the bell tower. Shards of glass from the windows sparkled everywhere. Alfred swallowed, knowing how lucky he was that he didn't get hit by them. Then, the lump in his throat came back again as he realized something; Arthur might not be as lucky.

Alfred jumped over the mess as quick as he could to get to the graveyard. There, he found all the gravestones in pieces and the overgrown grass flattened. It looked like a silent bomb had just exploded. At the center of it all, Alfred found Arthur facing the cloudy sky. His fists were clenched and his shoulders looked stiff. Alfred slowed his pace and circled Arthur cautiously. In front of him was where the tomb Alfred drew on was supposed to be. But it wasn't there. Instead of the cracking, almost moss-overrun tomb there was a shiny pure black slab of stone, which was just as big as the tomb. It was slightly transparent, and Alfred could make out a silhouette inside it. Curious, Alfred moved closer. Before he could get close enough, Arthur hissed at him.

"Don't touch it."

Alfred turned to see Arthur glaring down at him. Alfred nodded silently, straightened up from his crouch and backed away. His eyes widened as he looked at the destruction around him, realizing that it was Arthur who did it. His powers must have come back.

"Arthur?" He called in a careful voice.

"You're such a fool, Jones."

It wasn't an insult. At least, Alfred didn't think it was. It was just an exhausted statement of fact.

"What made you play with matters beyond your understanding?" Arthur chuckled humourlessly. "You wanted to know what would happen and thought it would be fun? I guess the unknown is just too enticing for you to ignore. Another thing our races have in common." Arthur knelt and reached out to the stone block. "But the difference is; we know the consequences of what we do and thus prepare for the worst, while you...I bet you didn't think about it."

Alfred remained silent – he had a point, and just watched as Arthur swiped a finger along the side of the block, surprised when he saw Arthur's finger easily carved a line into the stone like it was made of wax. _What the hell?_ Arthur inspected his finger, which was covered with the same black material. He shook it off and dug into the stone again. This time, he used both hands with more vigor.

"What are you doing?" Alfred would've preferred to shut up. With Arthur's current mood, it wasn't smart to go against him. But Alfred was just too confused about everything that he just blurted out the question. But it wasn't until Arthur was wrist-deep into the stone or wax, whatever, that he paid attention to Alfred.

"Jones, roll up my sleeves," he ordered.

"What?" Alfred complained, but did as he was told. When he got the sleeves out of the way, Arthur forced his hands deeper. He didn't seem to need too much force to make a hole in the block, but Arthur's face was strained; his lips were tight and his eyebrows drawn into a frown.

"Dude, seriously. What are you doing?"

Arthur remained silent for a while, then he let out a puff of breath.

"Got it."

"Got what?"

There was a muffled crack. Arthur pulled his arm out; little black globs clung to his skin. Alfred grimaced at the sour smell that came from the inside, but Arthur didn't seem to notice it. He was more interested in the thing in his hand. It was a broken finger bone with a ring on it; a silver band holding a green oblong stone in its claw-like cage. The silvery image of an owl on a sword was embedded within the gem. Quickly, Alfred rolled up the sleeve of his own jacket, revealing the scar on his forearm. Matthew was right. It did look like an owl -A specific owl actually; the owl in the ring.

"What does it mean?"

Arthur set the bone back into the hole then looked up, still frowning. "It's my family crest; the symbol of the House Esprit. It serves as my anchorage to this world. That is what ties me to this dimension; to you." Arthur put the ring inside his pocket and went back to digging. Whatever he was trying to pull out next was obviously bigger, since Arthur had a hard time maneuvering his hand.

"Can I touch it?"

"Pardon me?"

"You told me not to touch this thing. But you obviously need some help. Can I touch it now?"

Arthur nodded. "But if you feel something wrong, then better stop."

Alfred took his jacket off and began tearing at the cold block as best as he could without further straining his left wrist, making the hole bigger as much possible until Arthur had enough room. As they continued to carve, they found it both easier to do so as time went on. Alfred guessed it was the heat that made the material soft. After ten minutes or so, Arthur finally got what he was looking for; a sword. _A sword! A live, Excalibur sword!_

"Seriously, what is in that thing?"

With a handkerchief, Arthur skillfully wiped the scabbard clean. As he did, he answered, "It is the tomb of the former head of House Esprit, Aracelly. Francis' mother." Arthur pulled out the sword a bit, inspecting the blade.

"What is it doing here?"

Arthur pulled the sword out in with a sharp _shing._ "You brought it here. It was in the chamber where my colleagues and I were experimenting with the sun. And I happen to be thrown against it when the miniature star exploded."

"Why was it in that chamber?"

Arthur sighed. He went to the block and raised the sword over his head. "Because she challenged the King for the throne."

"She has guts."

"She didn't have it for long. Seeing it as treason, the King decided to disgrace her memory by sealing his consort in an unmarked coffin made of the cheapest stone and placed under the castle grounds where no one would ever see her again." With the last word, the sword's blade turned into a long bluish-white crystal with jagged edges. Arthur held the hilt with both hands and, with a grunt, rammed the whole thing into the middle of the coffin. There was a shock that almost knocked Alfred on his butt. Then Arthur turned the blade, almost immediately, the coffin turned to ice crystals then disappeared into the air.

"Awesome."

Arthur fell on his knees using the sword, which went back to normal, for support. He was panting like a dog. Alfred went to him, grabbed his arms and helped him into a sitting position.

"I just desecrated my predecessor's grave, and all you can say is 'awesome'?"

"Well, why did you do it?"

"I can't let have people see it by accident. There are secrets to be found in the body." Arthur inhaled sharply with his mouth, then his head fell on Alfred's chest.

Alfred gave him a shake. "Arthur? Are you okay? Is it the headache? Talk to me, damn it!"

"I'm not okay. Don't you know what this means, Jones? The book is gone, so is the original gateway that you drew. I tried to replicate it; it didn't work. Your memory must not be accurate. I'm stuck here, Jones. I have no idea how to go back. And this is all because of your little game."

"I'm sorry. I really am."

"I don't need your apology. Nor do I want your pitty. What I need for you to do is to get us out of this mess."

Alfred buried his hand in Arthur's hair, holding him there. "Do you want to go back that bad?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, from what I saw from your memories, your world is dark, violent and in the brink of a war."

Arthur chuckled. "You're world has its share of violence. I'm alone here, Jones. But my son is there. And my family."

Alfred's hand dropped to the ground, gathering dead vines and crushed it in his fist until the thorns dug into his palm. "Well, then, we'll just have to do some research. I'll ask my granddad. Maybe he could help. I told you, right? I'll get you back. Arthur?"

Alfred grabbed Arthur's head and tilted it gently toward him. His eyes were closed, his frown was gone, and his lips were parted slightly. He looked…not calm. More like, peaceful.

_How troublesome._ In a count of three, Alfred carried Arthur onto his back, picked up the sword, then headed to the bike. The downhill walk wasn't a problem, even with Arthur's added weight. It was the matter of how Alfred would drive the bike without getting Arthur thrown off. Just when Alfred was thinking of tying Arthur's arms around his waist, the guy murmured and shifted his head so that he was literally breathing on Alfred's neck. He murmured again, this time, louder and clearer.

It was a name that turned Alfred's face red, even though he knew it wasn't his; _Alfred_. Arthur's Alfred. A different Alfred. Not him. Arthur murmured again, and then nuzzled Alfred's neck.

_What a pain._

o o o

Arthur woke up to a high pitched screaming. Instantly, Arthur was up, knees bent and hand reaching for his sword. However, there was no sword. Arthur scanned his surroundings. His nerves calmed as he realized where he was. He was in his room, in Jones' house. The lamp on the bedside table glowed dimly, shining over a small tub of water. A damp towel was tangled along with the crumpled bed sheets. There seems to be no sign of danger. But Arthur could still hear muffled screaming.

In semi-darkness, Arthur brought out a shirt and jeans loaned by Mathew, and hurriedly dressed, wanting to know where the screams came from. But he shouldn't have rushed too much. Arthur paused for a while to massage his temples. The ramming inside his head was back again. Arthur took a seat on the floor until the pain passed. It seems to come and go at random moments, which frustrated Arthur since he was always caught off guard. With his magic, Arthur tried to ease the pain. But once again, his magic would not come to him. Arthur groaned. _This is utterly ridiculous! Matters won't be so bleak if only I could just use my full power._

After a minute or so, the world was still again. Arthur picked himself off the ground and headed to the living area. There were no lights aside from the flat screen, which showed a woman being chased through the woods.

"Arthur?" a shy voice said.

Only then did Arthur notice Matthew sitting on the couch, a bowl of popcorn on his folded legs.

Matthew paused the movie he was watching then flicked the lights on. "How are you feeling? Are you hungry? I could go get you something to eat."

Arthur shielded his eyes with his hand, not quite used to the brightness of Jones' world.

"No, it's fine. I'm feeling better," he replied, taking a seat on the sofa.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Good, good. Oh, hey, nice ring."

"Excuse me?"

Matthew jerked his chin toward Arthur's upraised hand. "I didn't notice it before. May I see it?"

Arthur placed his left hand on Matthew's palm, wondering how Aracelly's ring got there.

"What happened? Where's Jones?"

Matthew tilted his hand from side to side to get a better view of the gemstone before releasing it, saying, "It's antique." He then held the popcorn bowl out to Arthur, who took a handful, before he finally answered, "Well, he brought you home, thrown over his shoulder. Then after he put you to bed, he disappeared into his room and only came out for diner. His lip was cut up and you were both covered in dirt. Plus, he looked really down. You don't remember what happened? Al didn't say anything."

Arthur took his time to chew the food he had in his mouth, at the same time, he was trying to think what he should tell Matthew. He knew Jones wouldn't like it if he told the truth, but at he didn't want to lie either. Arthur looked at Matthew, who was munching on the popcorn as he patiently waited for Arthur's answer. Arthur sighed.

"It has something to do with my home."

Matthew licked his lips, but he didn't say anything, although Arthur sensed he wanted to say something.

Arthur tilted his head. "What is it?"

"I'm not supposed to ask."

"Ask what? And why not?"

"See," Matthew continued, "When Al was dating Natalia, we figured that Alfred…" Matthew bit his bottom lip, then smiled. "Let's just say that he has weird kinks, and I learned that the painful way. So, really, I don't think I want to know more than necessary. That's why we didn't ask questions about you."

"I'm not following you," Arthur interrupted.

Matthew covered his face with his palms as he bent over. "Oh my God. How should I say this?" He straightened up. "This is all you need to know; Natalia loves knives, Alfred was horny, and I was an idiot for not knocking."

Arthur raised an eyebrow at the new information. He would've never guessed that Jones and Natalia had a past, having seen Jones' hostile treatment toward her. He wondered how they became estranged with each other. Arthur remembered how protective Jones had been with Matthew.

_It might have something to do with him._ Arthur decided not to ask for now. Instead, he encouraged Matthew to ask his question, promising not to say too much.

"You might not want to talk about it," Matthew warned him.

"Well, I wouldn't know that until you ask your question."

Matthew wiped his glasses. When he put them back on, he finally said, "Okay. First question; What happened a while ago? what's up with your home?"

Arthur pursed his lips. "Jones and I went to see if I could go back. Things got…complicated. It seems that, I can't go home. Not yet. To be honest, I don't know if I could go back."

"You could stay here forever."

Arthur stared at Matthew's sincere eyes. "I could. But my son is probably waiting for me."

Matthew choked. "You have a son?"

_It shouldn't be so surprising. _"Well, yes. He didn't seem to have parents, so I took him in."

"Oooh. Does Al know this?"

"Yes, I already told Jones."

There was silence before Matthew cleared his throat and moved on to the next question.

"Why don't you call Al by his name?"

Arthur chuckled at this question. "Because I know someone whose name is Alfred. I don't want to confuse the two of them."

Mathew squinted. "You're being really vague, you know."

"I thought you didn't want too much information?"

"Not this much, or little!"

Arthur dodged the popcorn that Matthew threw his way, laughing.

"Fine," Matthew said after throwing one last corn. "Tell me about yourself."

"That is a broad subject. It's going to be a long story."

Matthew turned the TV off then smiled. "I love stories."

Arthur smiled back. "Don't tell Jones."

* * *

><p>Thank you for reading! Sorry about the wait; I didn't have motivation to write and I got distracted by school and my new tumblr blog. I hope this was worth the wait.<p>

Also, I already updated the first chapter. I sorta combined it with the prologue, and I changed some scenes and added some details.

Again, thanks for all the favourites and subscription!


	7. Thoughts and Memories

Hetalia©Hidekaz Himaruya

* * *

><p>The following days, Arthur observed, were tense. It was only after three days since he and Jones had gone to the church that he noticed the rift between Jacques and his ward. During dinner – and every meal that followed - Jones sat himself across the table, on the seat farthest from Jacques. The two men didn't have any words for each other throughout the meal. And on the rare occasion that Jacques was home during the weekend, Jones decided to spend his time in the privacy of his room. His self-imposed isolation and lack of enthusiasm greatly bothered Arthur. <em>The Jones I know was loud and brash, and unreasonably happy. Why this sudden silence?<em>

Once, as the two cousins arrived from school, Arthur followed Jones to his room to talk about the cause of his gloom. But the troubled man had barred himself on the threshold. "Not today, Arthur. I'm busy with school work and research."

"What research?"

Jones had frowned then. "To get you out of the mess I got you in," he answered impatiently. Arthur would've been happy to hear about Jones' effort and would have offered to go over his findings with him if it weren't for the hard line on the other man's lips. Arthur took that as his cue to leave. Matthew was watching from the bottom of the stairs, and despite not hearing anything, Arthur knew he sensed the distance between his cousin and ' coldness didn't only reach Jacques. For some reason, it touched Arthur too.

"I know we often fight, but what did I do this time?" Arthur asked Matthew one night as the two cleaned up in the kitchen.

"I don't think it's you."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "We both know you don't believe that."

Matthew crouched down to set the casserole in the bottom cupboards. When he straightened up, he sighed. "They had a fight with Jacques. On the night when he brought you home passed out. I don't know the details, but I think Jacques fears Al might go back to his old habits – starting fights and stuff. Al says it isn't like that. With cuts on his face and hands, Jacques found it hard to believe. He and Francis drilled Al about what really happened, but he won't tell much no matter what. Jacques won't let this go this time, and Al has no intention of giving in. I'm not sure how you're connected with their quarrel, but Al doesn't seem like he's angry with you. If you ask me, he looks confused and a bit sad when he looks at you."

The tense atmosphere eventually turned awkward as the days went by. Only Francis seemed to be unaffected by the walls Jones put up against Jacques and Arthur. He carried out his day like nothing was amiss. Arthur and Matthew tried to follow his example, but it was slowly getting under their nerves. Matthew, who had been - no doubt – talking to his cousin decided to give some space. And Arthur, who was at first patient about Jones' avoidance, was beginning to get crossed.

For that, Arthur was glad to have his and Matthew's night talks. It didn't only serve as a stress reliever but also a way to get to know Matthew more. For the past five days, Matthew had been spending a part of his night in Arthur's basement listening to Arthur's life story. On an impulse, Arthur told Matthew the whole truth. As Matthew's eyes widened on the first night, Arthur berated himself for his rash actions. What was he thinking? Why did he have to tell him everything? Now, he blew his friendship with Matthew! He alienated the fellow who was kind to him from the very start.

But Arthur's panic was for naught. Following the shocked expression of Matthew's face as Arthur finished his tale was an amused laugh. Arthur feared that he had somehow broke something in Matthew's mind until the younger man said, "I'm going to have a hard time figuring out the metaphor for this one."

Arthur managed to laugh off his nervousness then. _Thank goodness for his passionate appreciation for fiction._

Now, on the sixth night of their newly found routine, Arthur sat on the sofa waiting for Matthew to arrive. He thought about what tale he would tell him tonight. He had already told him the main events of his life. Maybe he'll ask for details then, Arthur speculated. Or maybe he'll ask how Večna Noč came to be.

However, all of his guesses were wrong. As Matthew jogged down the stairs, with his voice recorder in hand, he asked Arthur to repeat the tale from the first night. "It's the only thing I didn't get to record," he explained.

Arthur was more than happy to oblige.

o o o

Večna Noč, Arthur's home, was unlike the planet Earth. Wherein Jones' home the world constantly changes and sheds its skin – from bright summer, to colorful autumn, to the bleached winter, to lively spring, until summer takes over once again - Večna Noč remains the same. It stays dark and cold, as it would be for eternity. There was no Sun. Only moons – the home of the goddesses. It never rained. But there was a constant wind that stirs the dirt from the ground. The trees on Earth are green and brown, knotty and tall. In Večna Noč, they were grey and silver or purple and black, most were gnarled and bent, although some stand tall – taller that some of the skyscrapers on Earth. There is one similarity between the trees of the two worlds; they both bore fruits. These fruits are where the people of Večna Noč get their drink from, for water did not exist - nor does coke, which Arthur had taken a liking to. Where the ground on Earth sprouts grass, the rocky terrain of Večna Noč nurtures varieties of gem stones. The odd planet is not completely made of rock, however. There are some cites where the red mud is prominent. The 'Red Lands' is where the shrubs and other plants could survive. Here, instead of austere citadels or heavy stone quarters, red-brown huts clustered in villages. Underground, there were no sewers, or pipe lines, or any of the other things Arthur had heard of. Underground, lay a giant city magically carved from the earth itself – a city of light, a city built by the first Sun King; Helios' Hold.

Unlike Earth, which hosts hundreds of nations, there were – rather, used to be - four races living in Večna Noč; The Serebrit'sya, who were the oldest and most powerful people. They were the moon goddess Selena's favoured ones, crafted from her own image – near immortal beings, tall, pale hair with alabaster skin. Masters of both magic and sword. Despite their military strength and cunning minds, their population was small, which caused their near defeat against the Esrarli. They had turned to Selena, seeking her help. She knew a way to help her children, but it would cost dearly for both her and her people. In desperation, the king and the priestess accepted Selena's offer. Weakened by their sacrifice, the Serebrit'sya had slowly died off.

The Esrarli people, whose populace outnumbers all the other three races, were mysterious people. No one knew where they came from. Francis – Francis from Arthur's world, that is – suspects that they came from the shadows, born by the Purple Goddess, kin to the beasts that haunt the unexplored caverns. But all that were just speculations. After the war the remaining Esrarli built their cities south-east of the desolate Serebrit'sya Kingdom, setting up trades with the Spadix to the north. Despite their growing connections with the other nations, there was little known of them since they kept their counsel from outsiders. However, at present times, changes were made during the reign of the young king, Roderick. Although they were not as warm as the Spadix, they were less aloof and more trusting than they were before.

The Spadix people were the friendliest of the races. They are the dwellers of the Red Lands, guardian of the Red Goddess and wielders of her magic. Despite having the least amount of people – now that the Srebrit'sya was extinct, they were not troubled by wars due to their peaceful nature as well as their respected roles as healers. They were as old as the Serebrit'sya, they even lived and traded with them before the war. The two nations had close relations, and possibly some of the dead nation's secrets have been entrusted with the leaders of the Spadix.

The youngest of all the races are the Auriu - people born of the Lord of Light when the goddess Selena summoned him into the heavens and briefly loaned her throne to him during the war between the Serebrit'sya and the Esrarli. Helios was one of the first children of the Lord of Light. When Selena took over and the world was plunged into darkness once again, Helios and his siblings quickly learned that their survival depended on the light and warmth of their sire. The surface was unfit for them, therefore, they retreated underground, where the air was warmer and where they can freely create their artificial suns without harming the Spadix and the Esrarli - people who thrived in darkness.

Helios' Hold was the home to the Auriu. The giant city resembles Earth in some degree. The tall stone houses were neatly lined in rows that zigzagged up to the palace, where the royal family lived. Helios, being the most proficient with magic, was elected leader of the infant nation. The city grew as its residents coupled, sometimes with people from the upper world. Helios himself had many children. His eldest and heir was Arin, Arthur's sire. As Helios' family grew, the palace expanded, swallowing part of the common residence, creating an inner city in wherein the ones with pure Auriu ancestry lived. Those who had mated with other races were placed in the outer city.

Arthur, being the son of an Abbronzarzi and a King, was the only exception. As a boy, he was allowed to live within the palace with his mother, who was regarded with indifference by some of the nobles. It was well known that the Abbronzarzi, a special tribe of the Spadix, had beautiful bronze skin and possessed special powers; shape shifting, boundless healing, the gift of sight to name a few. A selected dozen served as the priestesses of the Red Goddess. Due to their special talents, they often stayed within their villages, protected by the Spadix. However, powerful and persistent people like Arin managed to track down a group of city ravers close to the Forest, and from them, he bought their captive; a young Abbronzarzi. The King took Saxa for himself, thrilled by the powers she possessed and how it would strengthen his kingdom. Saxa, however, didn't show any of the gifts. Moreover, she was not as tall as her kinsman. She was rather petite in Spadix standards. But she had charmingly wild dark hair and luminous green eyes. She was Arin's favourite for a time, until the first night of the Purple Moon's rising, when Arthur was born. Saxa had searched every wild garden in the underground city that she saw in her dream where her son would be born. Among a cluster of pale blue roses, she found the babe Arthur sleeping, glowing under the purple moon.

Saxa had mentioned to Arthur once that she was relieved that he did not inherit his mother's hair or her skin. She said that since Arthur had the distinct fair complexion and the golden hair of the Auriu, he would be easily accepted by the royal court. His green eyes, his mother hoped, would be easily looked over. The first part was true enough until Arthur reached maturity. By then, he was one of the greatest among his contemporaries. He was gifted in magic and swordplay, and his mind was sharp. He was the famed youngest member of the Sorcerer's Guild – magic users who use their knowledge and skill to explore various possibilities.

Arthur's quick rise was seen as a threat to a few of his half-siblings, for Arin had not picked an heir yet. And then when he got placed in the House Esprit and made to be Francis' colleague in his studies, some nobles openly protested. Eyes were suddenly on Saxa and Arthur's impure blood, previously ignored, was on every noble's lips. Arin's councillors, and Arin himself, however, decided to give him a test; a fistfight against Arin's general. The general was much larger than Arthur, but the latter had quicker wits. The fight was long and painful, but Arthur had succeeded to bring Dejon to his knees.

His life as an assistant was infuriating to say the least. Francis was a difficult man to deal with. Arthur could not follow his thoughts at first; sometimes he says one thing but means or does the opposite. His unpredictability had gotten Arthur into many troubles. Especially when Francis had thrust his seat as Head of the House to Arthur when Aracelly, Francis' mother died in a duel between her and the king.

Arthur had confronted Francis about his decision not because he felt inadequate for the job, but because the duties of the Head would take up his time, ridding him of his freedom to walk around the city and talk to the people. Much less to spend a couple of nights in the upper world where he would take his winged mount and fly over the Forest to his heart's content, then slip in a bed to share his pleasure with someone. But Francis would not reclaim his seat. Although, he had offered to be his adviser. Arthur didn't know if his half-brother was making a joke or if he meant his words, but he suspected that Francis had thought of the same thing. Being Head would take away his pleasures. And Francis loathed being far from his chambers. He would prefer to hunch over texts written many Risings ago, or inspect the curious circular imprints on the rocks taken from the deeper part of the city, past the lower cities, or else waste his time on the bed with one – or two - women. He only gave his attention to three things; his books, the artifacts, and women. Arthur then had no choice but to accept the responsibilities as Head of House. His duties, however, didn't impede much of his luxury time as much as he'd originally thought. He was still able to take short trips to the upper world thanks to his highly capable aide, Alfred.

Alfred was a descendant of one of Helios' siblings. His golden hair, fair skin, and blue eyes were testaments to his pure Auriu blood. He was barely past his fourth Rising then, only one Rising younger than Arthur, yet he acted like an elderly. He was always serious, unsmiling and straightforward. His focus, which was always on his duties, was unwavering. His stiff manner, Arthur found out, was due to his stern training as a child. Apparently, the young aide was gifted; his power, although seen as a blessing from Electruon, was dangerous. But the danger was lost to Arthur. At the time, Alfred was roughly his size. If something were to happen, Arthur was sure he could protect himself.

Arthur had taken a liking to tease Alfred whenever he felt tired. He would, from time to time, play pranks on him to get his reaction, which was always a combination of an exhausted sigh and a glare. Once or twice, Arthur managed to drag him to the lower cities, where they would visit the sword smith or join in the feasts of the common folk. Whether Alfred enjoyed the festive or not, Arthur didn't know; the aide barley cracked a smile, and if he did, Arthur didn't notice. Then one day, as Arthur was preparing to visit the upper world, he had been surprised when Alfred came running from the palace, his heavy cloak around his shoulders. Arthur smiled then, as the words "Take me with you" came out of the younger man's mouth.

Unfortunately, their adventures on the upper world were short lived. King Arin died without naming an heir. And, seeing the opportunity, Arin's younger siblings vied for the throne. The kingdom might have been thrown into a civil war if it weren't for Ludwig, Arin's eldest son and the number one candidate for kingship, proposing a vote. The Royal Houses, descendants of the Elders – the very first Auriu people - decided to abolish monarchy and formed a Council, appointing the three greatest Houses as leaders. Arthur's right to rule was again questioned, and like before, he earned his seat through a duel; this time a sword fight against Ludwig.

The royal palace was turned into a public building where councils were held to discuss the issues brought forth by the people. Generally, the people found the rule of the Council members more to their liking. Helios' Hold became a much more open place, both to the mixed bloods and to visitors from the upper world. More trades with the other races were established, and the exchange of knowledge was phenomenal; the races learned each other's native tongue, new spells and methods for magic were shared. The opening of the gates did not mean the decrease of the Hold's security. With the magic barriers and the soldiers standing guard, the city was well protected as ever. But of course, this all meant that the whole Council worked relentlessly.

As time passed, Alfred, who Arthur appointed as his Knight, grew more distant. And Arthur, once indulgent of his desires was forced to restrain himself. He was once open with his friends, sharing laughs with them, but he was no longer allowed that. Arthur hated it, but he knew that it was necessary, as it was part of his political duties.

Once in a while, when the pressures where too much to bear, Arthur would sneak out to the upper world. It was in one of his trips that he found his adopted son, Peter. The murder of an Esrarli prince had come to an end when finally, after several moons, Kassidy confessed to stabbing the prince to death. Despite the lack of information as to why Kassidy committed the crime, she was declared guilty by the Council. Arthur had questioned her of her motives, but she would not say. She just stared into Arthur's eyes, saying that no matter what really happened she had killed the nephew of King Baldrick. And the King would demand her blood, which she knew the Council would give. It was simple politics. Arthur, ridden with guilt and heavy of heart for being unable to help one of his House – and a mother to Matthew and an aunt to Alfred no less! – set out to walk alone in the forest trying to decide whether he should do the wise thing and agree with the Council, or should he try to compromise with the Esrarli King. As he walked along the bank of the Silver River, deciding that the latter option was futile, he noticed an odd light breaking through the surface. Curious, Arthur peeked in and saw a baby, submerged under the current, protected by a bubble of air as the river sluggishly flowed harmlessly around him. Instead of using magic, Arthur unthinkingly waded into the thick liquid and quickly took the baby into his arms. The baby was clearly a pure blood, and Arthur wondered why his parents didn't claim him. Newborns were rare therefore, treasured.

Having enough responsibilities as the Head of the House, a council leader, and a member of the Sorcerer's Guild, the nursing of the baby fell on Saxa, who was thrilled to have a newborn in her care again. But Arthur always got to play with his son despite his busyness since the child was allowed to live with him and his mother in the Esprit palaces.

Arthur, by then having 630 Moon Cycles – or six Risings – grew more accustomed to his double life. It was now second nature for him to put up his façade in public then quickly dropping it as soon as his chamber doors closed behind him. Only his mother, Peter, and Alfred – and previously Matthew - were allowed privy to Arthur's private life. The decisions he had to make in order to maintain fairness within his House as well as the rest of Helios' Hold didn't weigh on him as heavy as it used to. He learned not to take it to heart the glares he got from people, for he knew he was bound to have enemies. Nor did he let the praises he received get into his head, for they could be fleeting.

For a long while, Arthur's life fell into a routine that he found neither unpleasant nor pleasurable; until that night, on the next Rising, when the accident happened. Arthur, who just finished his sparring session with Alfred, was about to retire to bed when a young magician came running to him. Something had gone wrong in the upgraded sun experiments; the ball of light had developed tongues of fire, incinerating everything it touched. And it continued to grow bigger. Arthur and his knight quickly ran to the lower chambers, the young magician following behind them.

Everyone's hope was that Arthur could stop the ball of fire with his Gift; that he could get close enough to the scorching sun to turn it into a crystal and dissolve it. The theory would have worked, Arthur knew. But the room was too chaotic. The usually calm sorcerers were flailing their arms around trying to reverse the spell or protecting their comrades. One of the ball's flares erupted, sending flaming shrapnel in the direction where Alfred stood trying to get the now bleeding apprentice out of the room. There was little time to react and too much distraction. Arthur stepped in before Alfred, throwing up a barrier. But the force was too strong and had sent him flying across the room. Looking back, Arthur thought his actions stupid. He could have easily used magic to push Alfred and the young initiate out of the way. Yet using his body to shield his knight was his first instinct. What would have other people done when they see that their beloved friend was in danger? When they know that in just a few moments the person they have known the longest, have shared so many memories with, and have been attached to from the very start would be burned to nothingness? Would they be any less desperate to save the person who willingly stood by their side despite their monstrosities? Arthur doubted it.

Amidst the pain on his chest, Arthur noticed the purple clad Lukas march calmly into the room. He remembered Trohet's most powerful sorcerer conjure a pitch black hole that swallowed the exploding sun. Arthur remembered the sudden quiet in the room. He remembered seeing Alfred's worried face. He remembered smiling at the unusual expression. Then, nothing.

o o o

Arthur tightened the blanket around himself, watching Matthew press buttons on his voice recorder. Unlike the first time Matthew had heard the story, Matthew didn't laugh or smile. His eyes didn't widen. He just nibbled on his lip silently. Arthur let the silence grow; there was not much to say. Then, Matthew raised his head.

"I still don't get the metaphor," he said very seriously. Arthur laughed. _Of course you don't. There's no metaphor. I've told you everything straight out._

"Don't think much on it. Or you'll hurt yourself."

Matthew reddened a bit but eventually joined Arthur's laughter. Arthur might have imagined it, but as he and Matthew joked around, he thought he heard a click of a door knob. But the sound was so quiet that Arthur believed it was nothing.

o o o

Eighty three seconds. The headaches lasted for eighty three seconds this time. It seemed that the duration of the pain kept getting longer as it got more frequent. Arthur didn't like that one bit. With his head in his hands, Arthur searched through his mind for what could be the reason for his headache. But in his unusual situation, it could be anything; the temperature on Earth was too high for Arthur's body, the air was not good for him, he ate something that he shouldn't have, or maybe it's because he lacks sleep. Arthur hoped it was just that and didn't have something to do with the instability of his magic.

When the last of his dizziness was gone, Arthur sat at the edge of the bed twirling Aracelly's ring on his finger as though if he twirled it enough times it would give him answers. But of course, it did nothing but give him nostalgia. When he was telling Matthew stories about his life – his real life – Arthur realised how unsatisfied he sounded. In Večna Noč, he was someone who people respected and even feared. There, he was one of the best sorcerers among the Auriu. There, he had friends and people that claimed to look up to him. Yet when he compared his long life in Večna Noč to the weeks he spent on Earth, he noted that he had more fun in the foreign world than in his own.

Maybe it was because of the sun, which occasionally showed its face behind the clouds. Its light and warmth was not something the light globes in Helios' Hold could replicate. Or maybe it was the little animals that scurry around the parks that Arthur found endearing. The gadgets and machines in Jones' world surely impressed him. And the fashion amused him. To say that his trips to the mall with Francis or Matthew were interesting was an understatement. There many new things to learn and to try; and Arthur was thrilled by all of it. Most of all, he loved the openness of the sky. He found it beautiful whether it was sunny, cloudy, or rainy. There was a freeness to it that Arthur didn't find in Helios' Hold. _Of course I wouldn't, it was underground!_ But still, even if he went to the upper world, the sky wasn't the same. It was static and dead.

His thoughts went back to the time when he and Alfred, his knight, had gone overland on a business trip. The two of them had briefly lain on the ground, staring at the Black Moon. Even with the small light globe in Arthur's palm and the blue electric sparks jumping off Alfred's fingers, it was hard for them to see their footing, making him and Alfred trip each other, which is why they decided to wait for the Silver Moon. As they stared at the dark circle against the deep dark blue of the sky, Alfred wondered aloud what it must have looked like when the Lord of Light was in the sky.

_You'll love it, Alfred._ Unfortunately, there was no way Alfred could see the Earth sky. No sensible way, at least. Arthur stopped fiddling the ring and took a deep breath. A new question popped into his mind; If there was no way for Arthur to go back to Večna Noč could he just abandon his family and friends? His magic and his old life? And, if he could go back, would he? Knowing that he'll go back to a dark life dedicated to duty?

Arthur didn't want to think about it. Luckily, he didn't have to. For at that moment Jones appeared at the stairs. Arthur hid his surprise as he waited for Jones to talk. When he did, it was with false casualness.

"Hey, I'm off to school," he said. His calm act would have been believable if he didn't scratch his nose – a mannerism that indicated his uneasiness. "You're breakfast's getting cold. You should go eat it."

Alfred nodded and told him that he will after he got changed. Alfred climbed two steps, and then turned back. "I just wanted to tell you that I'll be staying with Mathias this weekend."

"Why are you avoiding me?" Arthur demanded, suddenly angry. "And don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. You barely talked to me for a whole week, you only look at me when my back is turned around. And now, you're leaving your own home just to get away from me and your uncle?"

Jones opened his mouth, but he stopped his retort. "Look," he said coolly. "I just made up with Jacques but things are still not okay. I don't want to start a fight with you, so do me a favour and stop baiting me. I just came here to tell you that I'll be gone for the weekend. I just need to cool off. Don't take this personally. Mattie will be here, so you'll be fine. But whatever you do, just don't go off on your own."

"Don't tell me what to do, Alfred."

Jones' surprise was clear on his face. And Arthur was sure his face showed his own shock. "Don't you have to go to school, Jones?"

Jones nodded absently, then climbed the rest of the stairs.

_Snap out of it, Arthur! Your mind is troubled and is not working properly._ Arthur rubbed his hands on his face. He was just stressed, he told himself. He'd been reminiscing on the past for far too long and had confused it with the present. His memories were just jumbled up.

_Oh, who am I kidding?_ There was no way he could have mistakenly take Jones for Alfred. They were not alike in character. Jones was always smiling, even when there was nothing to smile about. He was open with his thoughts and his actions were anything but careful. He was what Arthur wanted Alfred to be when they were younger. But the way he stood and spoke just now, distant and authoritative, was so like Alfred that Arthur made a slip.

Arthur stopped in his pacing as his own thoughts hit him. _It couldn't be._

Arthur twirled the ring once more before dashing into the shower. Not long after, he was dressed for a walk. He took the spare keys hung behind the front door and stepped out into the chilly autumn air. The cold was able to seep through Arthur's thin long-sleeved shirt, but he didn't mind. In fact he welcomed it. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply; He could almost smell the frost in the air, and he could definitely feel it biting on his exposed cheeks. The red and yellow leaves on the ground were slightly muted by the grey sky. This was the kind of weather Arthur preferred; he didn't feel like he was getting burned, nor was he blinded by too much light.

After making sure that he had properly locked the front door, Arthur dawdled a moment in the porch as he thought of where to go. He wouldn't need to go too far, just somewhere quiet. His thoughts bothered him and he found the need to cool off, as Jones put it. Shaking his head from the thoughts of Jones, he decided on a park nearby. Francis took him there once, and he remembered the way well. Taking one last look at the empty house, Arthur began to walk. With Jacques at work, and the other three men at school, Arthur was sure no one would mind if he went out for a while too. Well, Jones had told him not to go out alone. _Right. But there's no way for him to know. I'll just have to make sure I get back before everyone else._

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><p>This chapter, I think, is confusing. If you have any questions, feel free to ask (you can send me a pm or message me on tumblr. Whichever works for you).<p> 


	8. Mixed Emotions

Hetalia©Hidekaz Himaruya

* * *

><p>The balls hit the fence as Alfred swung the bat rhythmically. He was getting bored of it already. His energy and frustration were gone after he had Mathias crank the machine up and used unnecessary force to swing during the first three minutes. Now, he just felt tired and confused. The point of the whole batting was for him to get into a kind of meditative state, like the one Yao says he goes into when he does tai chi, so he could think about his talk with Jacques and how he should deal with Arthur.<p>

His talk with Jacques went well enough. Just before everyone came down for breakfast, he pulled Jacques from the newspaper to talk to him privately in the garden. The atmosphere had been a little awkward, and it just got worse when neither of the two spoke. Jacques just took a seat on the far side of the chess table. Meanwhile, Alfred did a good deal of head and nose scratching, noticing the chess pieces scattered all over the table. It looked like someone got tired of the game and ran off to who-knows-where. Realizing that he can't stand around like an idiot forever, Alfred sat on the opposite side of the table, frowning at the white queen that managed to find its way trapped deep in the blacks; it was blocked by the black knight someways to its right and by the dark bishop in the middle of the board. The remaining white knight was some squares behind the queen, one leap away from blocking the black bishop so that the queen could get rid of the pawn in front of it and be on its way. Alfred had the urge to get the queen back to its own side and was about to do so when Jacques asked him what he wanted to talk about.

"About Arthur," Alfred said uneasily, getting his mind back on track. His hand instinctively went to the cut under his left eye. But when he noticed that his uncle was looking at the numerous band aids on his face and his bandaged hand, Alfred quickly tucked his hands in his pockets. "Quit staring, _Jack_. It's making me uncomfortable."

Jacques shrugged then put his elbows on the table. "I'm just worried."

Alfred pouted at his uncle's passiveness: it only made Alfred's 'mission' easier. And although he wanted to patch things up with Jacques already, he still didn't want to explain his and Arthur's situation to him. _It'd be easier if everyone just butted out already, _he thought.

"You won't let this go, right?"

Jacques simply shook his head. Alfred took a breath before blowing it all in one puff.

"Fine," he said. "I'll tell you. But promise me you won't ask any questions."

To Alfred's surprise, Jacques agreed without any complaints. With a little suspicion and plenty of reluctance, Alfred began by admitting that he and Arthur were basically strangers until a week ago. Alfred took a peek at Jacques, but his uncle didn't react to his confession.

"But Arthur is my responsibility," Alfred continued, his chest feeling heavy as he said those words. "I can't tell you how it happened, but I'm the reason why he can't go home. I'm trying to find a way. That's what we were doing last week. We went back when it all started to look for clues but something unexpected happened. Because of that, I got these wounds and then Arthur fainted." Alfred cringed as he finished talking. He knew he had to cut parts of his stories so he won't sound like a lunatic, but nothing he said made any sense!

Alfred pulled up the hood of his jacket to hide his face. His uncle was staring at it for the whole time he was talking and he didn't want Jacques scrutinizing it anymore.

"So, listen," Alfred said when Jacques didn't say anything, "this is all I can tell you without sounding like I lost my mind. I don't want any of you to get mixed up in this."

Alfred looked up in time to see Jacques' eyes grow dark. It had that shifty look Alfred was never fond of. "What is it?" Alfred asked, although he doubted that Jacques would tell him. For a few tense moments, Alfred watched as his uncle drummed his fingers on the table, his nails clicking as it repeatedly hit the wood. Over and over again. Then all of a sudden, he stopped. Watching Jacques fold his hand as he went over Alfred's words made Alfred's stomach turn. His uncle might be relaxed and carefree most of the time, but there were times when he'd get an unusually blank look in his eyes, like dark curtains were drawn close to hide whatever was beyond them, that made Alfred wary of him. "Say something."

"I understand now," Jacques declared.

"Understand what?"

Jacques stretched out his arms then watched the flowers in his garden sway. Alfred waited for the rest of the sentence, but Jacques didn't speak anymore. Plus, he made a point of not looking at Alfred. It was clear their discussion was over. Feeling more worried than before his talk with Jacques, Alfred decided to press his uncle into talking.

"So, are we okay?" he asked nervously. It wasn't exactly the best change of subject, but, at the moment, he didn't have anything better to say. He just wanted Jacques to open his mouth again; there was something about Jacques' pensive mood that made Alfred not want to be near the guy.

Jacques turned his face slightly toward Alfred. "Yes, we're okay. But it hurt a little, you know." he said softly. "I know I'm not your father, you don't need to tell me that."

Alfred's cheeks burned as he was reminded of the things he yelled at Jacques before. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said."

Jacques smiled a little. "I know. But that's not my point. What I'm saying is, I'm your guardian and I still worry for you. Now that you gave me a hint on what is really going on…" Jacques looked away again "…well, I'm not entirely sure if I should be more worried or if I should relax. Is there something else you wanted to say? You still have school, you know."

_What's that supposed to mean? _Alfred wanted a better explanation from his uncle, but since he did a poor job at explaining himself, he let the matter go. "Actually," Alfred said, rising from the bench. "I'm staying at Mat's for the weekend. I just wanted to make sure to clear things up before I go."

Jacques mumbled something as Alfred headed toward the kitchen. Just as he slid open the door, Jacques called him back. "Oh, and Alfred, I think I told you this before: my name isn't 'Jack'. Pronounce it right, okay?"

Jacques was still watching the flowers, so Alfred didn't really see his face. But he heard the smile in his voice.

"Whatever. See 'ya on Monday." Alfred hung around the kitchen for a couple of seconds, picking at the toasts and sausages on table as he glared at the door to the basement. His business with Jacques was done. But then he has to deal with Arthur.

That's where things went a bit south. Just thinking about it scrambled Alfred's not-quite-stable emotions. He just got pissed again and began swinging like a maniac. Daddy Eyebrows just had to accuse Alfred of avoiding him, saying all those things like he wanted to pick a fight. And on top of it all he had to call him Alfred! It was nothing, just a slip. It should be nothing. But the way Arthur said it rubbed him the wrong way; and it annoyed him.

"Annoyed at what, damn it!" Alfred yelled as he struck the ball flying at him as hard as he could. The bat got ripped from his hands and struck the side of the pitching machine, making both Alfred and Mathias cringe.

"Dude, take it easy," Mat cried from behind the fence as he wedged his arm in one of the holes to turn the machine off. "I'll be in enough trouble for letting you inside the campus without you destroying school property, 'ya know."

A random ball flew out, almost hitting Alfred on the shoulder. Before he really got hit, Alfred quickly exited the cage and joined Mat. He sighed and pushed his hair out of his face then wiped the sweat on his hands off his pants. "I'm going crazy here and you're worried about the machine?"

Mathias waved off his whines and handed him a pop instead. "All I'm saying is control yourself. You can't just go destroying things just because you're jealous."

_Jealous. _Alfred slouched on the bench, clicking his tongue in irritation. "You really think I'm jealous?"

Mat scoffed, or maybe choked on his drink (the sound was alike and Alfred wasn't sure which is which). "Well," he said when he recovered, "yeah. You complained a lot about him. Like how he's bossy and how he easily gets on your bad side. But there's only one thing that really bothers you. You aren't upset by any of his habits, no matter how bad you say they are; you're just jealous of the other guy you mentioned in his life, and you're also upset that he didn't tell you that he has a son. That's what I think."

Alfred thought on that for a while as he and Mat returned to the school's outer campus. By that time, the sun already began to set, and Lukas and his classmates were done with their group project. Alfred almost bumped into one of them as they funneled out of the apartment. Alfred caught Lukas' eye as he passed by him, and as he did, Lukas bluntly said that Alfred smelled like a sweating pig. With those hurtful words, Alfred decided to stop thinking about Arthur for a while and took a shower instead. He'll figure everything out when he didn't stink anymore; that's what he promised himself. But, in the end, he never got to it. After taking a shower, Berwald came home from his part-time job, and Egill finally got out of his room. Soon enough the five housemates and Alfred were all gathered around the T.V, voting on which movie to watch. Two action movies later, stomach were grumbling. Berwald was sent to the kitchen to cook while the others played 'go fish'. However, they all got bored of it after a few minutes, so they decided to pester Berwald while he cooked. There were shouting and food throwing; there were even a few kicks (those were mostly from Berwald to Lukas, who was trying to put a carrot stick in the former's ear while he cleaned the broken egg on the gas range).

It was around nine thirty when the food was ready. And it was around nine forty when they finished eating. Shameless, lazy, bastards as they were, Alfred, Mat, and the two brothers headed back to the living room to watch horror movies, leaving Tino and Berwald to clean the mess in the kitchen. Of course, the two were still able to join the movie marathon, which didn't end until past midnight. It was only when Alfred lay wide awake and terribly scared in a sleeping bag, next to Mat's bed, that he realized he still haven't sorted out his confusion involving Arthur. Why was he bothered that there was another guy named Alfred who was obviously closer to Arthur than he was? Why should it matter?

In the darkness above him, Alfred thought he saw an image of Arthur sitting under a tree, a picnic spread out before him. Then there was a blond haired child, running up to Arthur and cuddling up to him. Their smiling faces shone bright under a strange light. As Alfred saw more of the heartwarming scenes, he felt his chest tighten. It wasn't because of jealousy, or at least it wasn't _only_ because of that. The feeling in his chest wasn't the pain that jealousy sometimes gives. Rather, it had a heaviness and sadness to it that comes with nostalgia. But Alfred had nothing to be nostalgic about. They were more or less new friends; there is no history between them for tender feelings to latch on.

Above him, plastered on the ceiling, Alfred saw again Arthur's smiling face. But this time, it was not from the daydreams he just had; now, it was from a memory. A memory of that one elevator ride two weeks ago.

_Was it just two weeks ago? It feels so long ago since he smiled like that…_

o o o

The afternoon of the next day, the six friends decided to go the pool, despite the light shower and cool breeze. The pools had heaters and were indoors, of course, but Alfred hated the idea of walking back home in the cold weather after a warm soak. Plus, his hands haven't quite healed, which meant he couldn't do anything else other than sit around. Yet, despite his complaints, he still joined Mat and Egill in the hot tub. From their seat, they could see Berwald, Lukas, and Tino, racing each other.

"I bet you fifty bucks Tino wins," Egill murmured into his arm, watching the other three's match.

"Like I'd bet against Tino," was Mathias reply. The guy was cupping water onto his head until his hair was soaked and his cheeks were red. Alfred looked at Egill again, who still had his back to them.

"Hey Mat, what do you call it when you see someone suffering and you feel sad for them?" Alfred finally asked, sure that Egill wasn't interested in him and Mat.

"Hm?" Mat sank deeper into the water until his mouth was just barely above the surface. "Pity, or sympathy," he answered, making bubbles as he talked.

"Yeah, I thought so too. And if someone is suffering and you feel sad about it because it was your fault, that would be guilt."

"Sounds right."

"Then if I want to make this person happy because I'm the reason why he got sad in the first place, it only means that I feel bad for him, right?"

Mat gave Alfred a long side-ward glance. Then, as if he finished choosing his words, he lifted himself up by the elbow just high enough for his chin to rise from the water. "You know, Gil always said that we were similar in many ways. And I think that too. If you really think that you want to make this person happy out of duty, pity and guilt, then you must not know yourself at all."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Alfred demanded. He had enough riddles with Jacques; he didn't need more from Mat.

"Think about it, idiot. What's wrong with you? Even I can figure this one out. Okay, let's put it this way, why do you want this person to be happy, aside from it being a way to make up for your mistakes."

Alfred thought about it. The first thing that popped into his mind was Arthur's smile. "I guess I want to see him smile," Alfred mused.

Mat seemed to be pleased by his answer. "And why do want to see him smile?"

"I just want him to. And because it feels good when he smiles at me, I guess."

Mat laughed and slapped Alfred's back really hard, leaving a red palm-shaped mark on his skin. "See? You knew the answer all along! You're just too stupid to see it!" Alfred grumbled that calling him stupid was uncalled for, but Mat didn't seem to be listening to him anymore. "You want people around you to be happy just for the sake of being happy. That's just the kind of person you are. And I'm not wrong about this because I'm like that too. I'll always want the people I like to be happy; pity or guilt doesn't change that."

"That's a bit cheesy," Alfred commented.

Mathias splashed water at Alfred's face, making the remaining exposed scratches on his face sting.

"That hurt, asshole!"

"Yeah, well that's what you get for making me say those cheesy lines. Just go and make up with your boyfriend alr-"

"He's not my boyfriend! I told you already."

Mat stood up, looking like he had enough with Alfred. "Whatever," he grunted, before running out to the deepest pool. As Alfred watched Mat go, he noticed that Egill was staring at him. Without any warning, or any expression on his face, he said, "You like this guy. It'll be easier if you just admitted it."

Blood rushed to Alfred face so quickly that it almost made his head spin (or maybe he was in the hot water too long). Either way, he was now sure that Egill had been listening all along. In his embarrassment that a junior just gave him love advice, Alfred decided it was time for him to get out of the water. But Egill's words got him thinking; and it was all he thought while he changed and waited for his friends.

If Alfred really does like Arthur, that would explain why he didn't like it when he called him 'Alfred'. _Arthur must have been thinking of the other Alfred when he called me that name!_ Also, if Alfred liked Arthur, that would explain why he felt awkward, and a little disappointed, when he learned that Arthur had a son. It would also explain why he got a warm feeling when he was remembering Arthur's smile the last night. But these feelings were not exclusive to Arthur. It warmed Alfred's heart to see his family and friends smile. And he remembered being extremely jealous when he learned that Matthew had another playmate aside from him. _ But what makes his feelings for Arthur different from his feelings for his family and friends? Wait, this isn't what I'm supposed to be thinking!_

Alfred slapped himself to get his focus back. Even if he did like Arthur, those feelings won't matter since Arthur was not from his world. Sooner or later, he would have to go back and leave Alfred behind. _But if Arthur was stuck here forever…_Alfred slapped himself again, and the old man drying his hair was visibly worried for his sanity.

Thankfully, Alfred's friends soon got out of the pool and into the showers before Alfred could slap himself into insanity.

"So? How about it?" Mat asked him as he got out of his trunks. "Head clearer now?"

Alfred shook his head. "Got worse."

"Too bad."

o o o

On that evening, just as Alfred and the other five got home from the pool and were just waiting for the pizza they ordered, Alfred received a call from Mattie. It was actually Mat who answered the phone. But he barged into the bathroom, where Alfred was cleaning and re-bandaging his wounds, breathless and worried.

"What's up with you?" Alfred asked him, but Mat just shoved his phone into his hand. He understood the latter's worry when Alfred finally heard Mattie's panicked and hurried explanation.

"What do you mean he's gone?" Alfred yelled into the phone. He didn't want to lash out at Mattie; it wasn't it fault after all. But still, Mattie was panicking and didn't make much sense and it was making Alfred edgy.

"I told you," Mattie said again, but with more force. "He's been gone since yesterday. I thought he just took a walk in the park, but he hasn't come back."

"And you only tell me _now_?"

Mattie went silent. Alfred pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache come in. He caught Mathias' eyes as he stormed out of the shower and into Mat's room. Alfred held up his hand to stop whatever he was going to say then locked the door behind him. Holding the phone between his ear and shoulder, Alfred quickly tried to dress as best as he could as he listened to Mattie's story once again. "I'm coming back," Alfred finally said. "Don't call the police or anything."

Alfred hung up and quickly re-packed his things. All the while he explained everything to Mathias and the others.

"It's a shame that you have to leave. You even paid for the pizza and everything," Alfred heard Tino sigh from the door way. "I just hope nothing bad happened to Arthur."

It was the first time Tino heard of Arthur; Alfred didn't tell his friends about him, after all (except for Mat and Gil, and Antonio, who knew about Arthur even before Alfred had the chance to keep him a secret from them). But he knew Tino meant what he said. He gave a nod to the four guys standing by the door way, then took his backpack from Mat.

"I'd eat more pizza tonight than I originally thought," Mathias said in an attempt to lighten up the mood. Alfred smiled then slapped his shoulder before riding off.

It was the worst bike ride Alfred ever experienced. His head was throbbing badly from the lack of sleep the other night, the scratches on his face were itching, his bandaged fingers were making it hard for him to control the bike, and his focus was divided between what to think of Arthur's disappearance and the road. It was a miracle, Alfred thought, that he didn't lose control of the bike and died in an accident. Just as when his headache was getting worse, the rode began sloping upward, signalling that he was just a couple more blocks from home.

From a block away, Alfred could already see the blue and red lights twirling around in the in distance. He could already see the two police cars on their driveway, waiting intimidatingly as a cop spoke to Jacques. Alfred let out the groan. Didn't he tell them not to involve the cops? If only Matthew told him about the problem earlier, then things wouldn't have become too complicated. But no, they had to go to the cops instead!

"This is one problem after the other," Alfred grumbled, speeding his bike a little bit as he was eager to get back home. He was just a few meters away when the cop Jacques was talking to gave a nod then entered her car. He faintly heard Jacques apologize again for the inconvenience before the cars' engine took over as they drove out. Alfred pulled up where the car had been just as Jacques took his eyes off the red taillights and turned around to head back inside. Instead, he came face-to-face (or face to helmet) with Alfred. He jumped back a bit, almost tripping on his own feet.

"You scared me!" he complained with a frown on his face and a hand on his chest. His reaction looked silly, but Alfred wasn't in the mood to laugh.

"What's with this? I told you not to call the cops!"

Jacques raised his hand to calm Alfred down. "They were already here before Matthew called you."

Alfred pushed two fingers between his brows, forcing himself to relax his frown. When he felt a little calmer, he let Jacques take him to the kitchen where Matthew sat with his legs drawn into a hug against his chest. Seeing his cousin's messy hair and red nose made Alfred even guiltier for yelling at him over the phone.

When Mattie noticed Alfred coming in, the first thing he did was to apologize. Alfred quickly told him that not to blame himself.

"I'm more at fault here," he added. He then went on to the garden to get some air. His uncle followed him out with a mug on each hand. Once again, the two sat on each side of the chess table, which was now cleared of everything aside from their drinks.

"He took the keys with him, meaning that he meant to come back, right?" Jacques said out of the blue.

Alfred took his coffee between his hands, warming them up against the cool afternoon breeze. Would Arthur return? Of course he would. There was nowhere else for him to go. But could he? Thoughts of kidnapping ran briefly through Alfred's mind, but he quickly dismissed it. He saw in many of Arthur's memories that he could protect himself. But what if he turned into smoke again? Or maybe he already returned to his world? It wasn't that impossible if he just suddenly disappear just as he suddenly appeared.

_No, that'd be too easy. To think that this is how it ends after all the things they went through, it'd be weird. Life doesn't go so smoothly._ With a sigh, Alfred placed his mug back on the table then made a move to go to his room. But before he got out of his seat, Jacques pinned him in his seat with a question.

"Is Arthur's surname Kirkland?"

It took a moment for Alfred to comprehend the question. "How did you know that?" Alfred demanded.

"Lower your voice, Alfred," Jacques chided then continued, "I met Ann some time ago and she mentioned that you were asking information about a patient named Arthur Kirkland. I wondered if it was the same Arthur that we know, but apparently, _this_ Arthur Kirkland is in a coma, in England. More interesting is the fact that, not only do they share the same name, they also look exactly alike."

Alfred felt himself sink lower into the bench, not saying anything. He could say 'maybe they're twins', but he knew his uncle won't buy it. Jacques knew something was up. "What are you getting at?" Alfred said in defeat. Jacques remained silent for a long while. And Alfred felt it more and more difficult to look at him.

Finally, in a very hushed and serious voice, he said, "I guessed right then. We better start looking for Arthur before it gets too dark." Jacques stood up, and, looking down at Alfred with intense gaze that Alfred found hard to meet, he warned, "If we aren't able to find him in two days, then let's assume he went back to Večna Noč."

Alfred was absolutely stunned, to say the least. "What- what did you say?" Alfred's fingers dug painfully into his thigh, just as it had before he fainted during his physics class not long ago. _I probably heard it wrong. There's no way Jacques should know that name, right?_

"You heard me right," Jacques said, as if to contradict his thoughts. "You told me that the truth would make you sound crazy. And it's true. It sounds crazy, but I know that Arthur isn't from this world."

"What?" That was the only world Alfred could manage.

"There will be time to explain later. First, we must search for Arthur."

With his head pounding madly than ever, Alfred wobbled to his feet. Strange things happened to him ever since that day he played with the book his grandfather gave to him; first the scar on his arm, then Arthur appearing as a ghost. A ghost! Alfred didn't actually believe they existed, but there it was. And just when he thought he accepted the existence of ghosts, he learned that Arthur wasn't a ghost after all, but a spirit of a living person from a parallel universe. Then, said spirit suddenly turned into a solid person, endangering the live his counterpart in this world. And now, the ghost-spirit-person who Alfred may or may not like just disappears. As if that weren't enough, he learned that his uncle knew about Arthur's wold.

There was a sudden pain behind Alfred's eyes, making him cry out. He saw flames around him, then he saw Arthur's face, stained with blood. The last thing Alfred felt was a sharp pain on his knees as he fell to the ground. He faintly heard his uncle calling his name, just as he heard a voice, very much like his own, calling Arthur's.

* * *

><p>There is a 98% chance that next chapter will be a specialbonus chapter, dealing with how the other Alfred is doing in his world.

There is also 98% chance that I won't get past my writer's block sometime soon. I hope that I do.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	9. Behind the Gate

Hetalia© Hidekaz Himaruya

* * *

><p>Whoosh!<p>

Green flames spiralled up into the high ceiling, enveloping the Banner with its scorching caress. It was over in seconds. But it felt like a lifetime.

Every person in the Round Room began to rise; some standing on tiptoes to watch as Prince Ludwig pinned House Esprit's emblem on Prince Francis' robes, over his heart.

The Assembly applauded.

Alfred stormed out of the Round Room. He didn't care that Prince Mathias's disapproving eyes burned his back. Nor did he acknowledge Prince Francis calling softly to him. He didn't care that Prince Ludwig's eyes narrowed. It didn't matter if his reputation as a Knight would suffer for turning his back to the ceremony.

What mattered was the running clock. What mattered was the job that he needed to do. What mattered was that Alfred finally knew, after many nights of uncertainty, he finally knew that he was now alone in the search, that the Council had given up.

It took half the time than it usually takes for Alfred to reach Section III. Despite taking the front doors of the Round Room and crossing the plaza diagonally, there was no need for Alfred to fight his way through the crowd of vendors and paddlers and out of the Hill; the swarm of people parted for him, and avoided his path like they would the Rigis. Soon, he was alone in the cool interior of the Knight's Hall.

There was clinking from above. Maybe he wasn't alone, after all.

o o o

Alfred looked up just as Matthew prepared to launch himself over the candelabra. And his face, oh his face! The hard, stoic expression was gone now. His eyes, which were always unfathomable, were open windows to the anger and frustration and fear bubbling inside the knight. Fine eyebrows pulled over in a perpetual frown. And there was no mistaking the suspicion in his clenched jaw.

"I assume the Naming ceremony didn't go well?"

Alfred made that tsk sound he made when he was annoyed. Matthew smiled. "So I guess Arthur is no longer your lord."

Alfred's hand went to the lapel of his coat, covering the pin signifying his knighthood; encased with a silvery ring of metal, the spherical green jewel sparkling brightly emblazoned with the Owl and the Sword, the same emblem on the Banner whose ashes were probably being swept off from the Round Room floor like dirt.

"You'll get a new pin soon too. A rose, I think."

"What is your business here?" Knight Esprit snapped, lowering his arm and trying to smooth his face.

Matthew took a step, as if stepping on solid ground instead of nothingness ten feet from the ground. His fall was easy, light. It took him right in front of Alfred, who was still looking at Matthew with something like distaste. Well, it probably was.

"Move, Matthew. I don't have time for your games."

Indeed, he didn't have time for games. His narrowed eyes, tensed shoulders, and the crackling light between his fingers made sure Matthew understood that.

"Still in a hurry to save Arthur?"

Alfred clenched his fist. "Of course. Why should I stop searching for him just because the Council stopped?"

"You're wasting your strength. Why not serve Francis instead?"

Silence.

Matthew ran his eyes up and down Alfred's body, The glow from the gas lights on the candelabra made no attempt at hiding the bags under his eyes and the deeper hollows of his cheek. His dark blue uniform hung loosely at his shoulders and was generally ill-fitting. Matthew moved toward the stone ring in the middle of the room, lighted the logs in the middle by dropping a small light orb on it, before setting himself comfortably in one of the couches around the fire.

"You are slowly on you way to death, did you notice?" Matthew nodded his chin to the seat in front of him. "Take a seat before you crash to the ground. When was the last time you slept?"

Never letting his eyes leave Matthew's, Alfred took his seat. "I haven't slept since the Silver Moon. The Council had me in and out of the Room since."

"You've been up for two moons?" Matthew blew air between his teeth, adding the whistle to the now crackling fame between him and Alfred and the ticking cogs of the clock, hung on the wall to the right; its bronze-façade shining, its five rings all but immobile, except for the first – the innermost one which kept rotating as it counted down the seconds. The second, bigger ring turned, shifting its blank square panel on the next minute. 15, Selena's Fall, Violet Moon, 2871/280 P.A. "Almost three, now. You must be about ready to pass out."

Alfred sighed, dropped his head on his hand, and quietly asked, "What is your real purpose here, Matthew?"

Matthew leaned forward, warming his hands over the fire and at the same time lengthening the silence. He hadn't quite decided whether he should do as asked, or just abandon the task given to him. Of course, either decision could lead to serious problems. Should he go on and deliver the message, Alfred would, no doubt, take off at once in his search. He'd put everything remaining in him until he reaches his goal. On the other hand, if he should decide to withhold information, Alfred would still persist, but he might only end up in circles, which would only slowly sap his strength and eventually kill him. Matthew could either give Alfred what he was looking for and help bring Arthur back, or he could keep quiet and let Arthur be lost forever. He certainly had very good reasons to push for the latter.

"I'm not here to play, brother," Matthew sighed. " I have a special message for you. From no other than Lady Saxa."

Alfred's spine snapped straight. Sparks in his blue eyes ignited as he leaned forward over the small fire. "You found her? What did she say?"

"I didn't find her. Rather, she found me." Matthew waved his hand to quiet Alfred's oncoming questions. Shifting around in his seat, he reached into a pocket and pulled out the letter. "She left me a message for you."

Alfred grabbed the paper with eager fingers. Matthew watched, wondering if he would regret his decision, as Alfred's eyes whipped from left to right and back again as he read.

"When was this?" he demanded.

Saxa came to Matthew on the Black Moon, three whole moons ago. She had been in a hurry and refused to talk. She had appeared after many moons of being absent from Helios Hold looking for Alfred. But Alfred had been on the Upper-world, leading the search. She had frantically written the letter, now in Alfred's hands, and demanded Matthew's oath to see to it that Alfred read it.

"Light's Reign, Black Moon."

Pain shot up through Matthew's back. The world spun as his head snapped back, banging against the floor.

"You kept it from me for that long!" Alfred hissed, bolts of electricity jumping from his fingers grabbing at his collar. "Did you even plan to give it to me?"

Matthew kept his breathing even. He stilled his arms to his sides. "What does my intention matter? I gave it to you. Isn't that what is important?"

With a grunt, Alfred pulled his fist back and brought it down with all his weight on Matthew's face. Warm blood quickly covered his face as Alfred's fists beat him again and again.

"How dare you keep her letter from me! I could have found Arthur by now. How could you let me chase my own tail and laughed as you watched!"

Alfred was on the verge of breaking his neck when Matthew laughed, a humourless, grating noise. "I had my reason for hesitating. I'm sure you know that. Arthur deserves to die without having the chance to be helped. Just as my mother did."

One last punch sent a spray of blood to stain the carpet and Alfred's white ribbon. The edges of Matthew's vision was growing dark. He could feel his heart beating madly in his chest as his lungs failed to deliver enough air.

The weight on his chest lifted. Alfred stood above him, panting in rage.

"You want him to die?"

"I would have let him die." More blood splattered down Matthew's chin. Alfred pulled him up roughly by his sleeves, pulling him close.

"I ought to kill you, Matthew, for keeping the letter from me. This is treason, you understand?"

Matthew stared at the Alfred's dark eyes, plunged into shadows by the fire to the right. He could see that he'd pushed him far too deep within his fears, far beyond reason. All that was left on the surface was frustration and anger. He could feel the tremors from Alfred's fingers tugging at his collar.

"He was your brother once, wasn't he? He was a brother to you as much as he was for me! Please, Matthew. Help me look for him. Please. Don't be like the council. Don't tell me he's dead."

Matthew placed a hand on top of Alfred's bloody ones and gently pried his fingers off.

"We were all like brothers once. Arthur is no longer a friend to me. Much less a brother. I did what I can do, Alfred; I gave you the letter. That's all I could bring myself to do."

Alfred took a step back, seeming unconscious of his action as he looked surprised when he stumbled into the couch. He bent and placed his head on his hands. "Am I really alone in this?"

Matthew was silent for a while. Yes, perhaps Alfred was alone in his search for Arthur. The other knights and soldiers were out looking, but only due to the Knight Esprit's orders. Were they ordered to give up the search, none would possibly object. The Council, having the government of the House Esprit and its people their priority, could not afford to leave the post vacant - not with all the uproar going on in the upper-world. It was a logical move for them to place Francis to fill the seat. Only Saxa seemed to be Alfred's ally in looking for Arthur because of genuine concern. Of course, Matthew would have helped too, once upon a time.

"Arthur was ready to sacrifice a life for the betterment of the Hold. I would think he would prefer to be left wherever he is rather than have the soldiers searching for him in vain when they are more useful back home. Prince Francis seems to understand that."

Alfred sucked in a wet rattling breath. Matthew had to bite his tongue to choke of the derisive grunt itching to come out.

"You should get some sleep, or at least blow off some more steam. You are a breath away from killing someone."

o o o

Alfred felt as empty as the lounge was. The black smoke Matthew left as he vanished to who knows where was lost in the cavernous ceiling a long time ago. He could almost hear the tremors in his hands in vast silence. Matthew's blood shimmered under the light of the central fire.

Alfred pressed his knuckles on the side of his thighs, wiping away the blood and stilling his shaking. How easily he let himself fall. He could have killed Matthew, he knew. He would have done it too, if it meant getting Arthur back.

The letter was on the ground, deeply creased from being unfolded and folded over and over again. How many times must have Matthew taken it from the cabinet and tucked into his pocket. Only to have it returned in the drawer. Well, it didn't matter now. No one can back the time that was lost.

Having sure to have his composure, broken as it was, in order Alfred doned off his uniform in favor of casual garments. The pile of papers on his drawer was still as high as it was the previous night. He ignored them. He strapped his sword to his waist and slid his conductor into the slip pocket on the back of his shirt instead. Throwing the cloak he grabbed from a chair, Alfred stormed out of the room, not bothering to put up the shields on his bedroom.

He needed to hurry. He was already three moons late as it is.

The lower levels of the Hold was just as dark as it was in the upper-world during the Black Moon. The glass orb Alfred took with him barely lit the pathway a few feet from him. It was already risky to trot in the steep cliff, and he haven't yet reached the Caves yet. He only hoped that the travel would be easier when the sorcerer would be with him.

Majority of the sorcerers chose to live in the lower plateaus of the Hold, mainly due to their secretive nature. This arrangement also settled the matter of limiting the hazards that can easily come to their experiments. At least on the lower levels, no innocent would be harmed.

It took a while for Alfred to navigate through the squat stone houses scattered throughout the surprisingly well-paved paths. The house he was looking for was set farther from the rest, toward the end of the Second Level. It was dangerously backed up against the slope leading to the Third Level.

Light was leaking out of the bottom of the door, and refracted on the ground by the glazed window. He was home, just as the guards at the Trohet gate said. The door swung open at Alfred's fourth knock. Warm purple smoke greeted him and tried to gag him.

"I apologize about that. I had a miscalculation."

Alfred waved his hands to dissipate the smoke and at the same time offhandedly accepting the apology.

"What are you doing this late of time?"

Indigo eyes gleamed among the dark silhouette, looking intimidating as the man leaned closer to Alfred. "I could ask you the same thing, Knight Esprit. The sorcerer's guild have been ordered to stop the investigation of the disappearance of Arthur. You no longer have business with me." Lukas crossed his arms, eyeing Alfred from head to toe, and back up again. "so why are you here?"

"I need your help. I received-"

"Mathias and Ludwig, along with the rest of the Council was displeased with your attitude earlier."

Alfred was taken aback by the abrupt change of topic. "What about it?" he said heatedly. "What does have anything to do with right now?"

"Do you think I'll help someone who is in danger of being kicked out of the city?"

Kicked out of the city? "Is that my punishment then? For turning my to Francis?"

"You really are a bit impudent. Only Arthur is able to tame you, is that it?" Lukas held out a hand, snapping Alfred's mouth with magic. Alfred glared at him even more. "I have no intention of being seen to be conspiring with a traitor."

Quick as thought, Alfred drew his blade and wedged it between the door and the jamb. Surprised, Lukas stared, giving Alfred just enough time to undo the spell he put on his mouth. Lukas' eyes grew wider.

"I don't time to play around! Saxa asked me to bring you."

As soon as Alfred said her name, Lukas' face tightened; his lips pressed tight and his eyes became more alert in an instant. "Lady Saxa? She's back then?"

Alfred felt his own face tighten. How did he know she was gone? No other people aside from the Esprit House knew Saxa's occasional disappearances. "She's not back. I received a letter from her. She asked me to meet her on the Caves. She told me to bring you with me."

Lukas looked into Alfred's eyes for a moment. Alfred held his gaze, letting the sorcerer find whatever it was he was looking for. When at last his patience run dry, he asked. "Well? Are you coming?"

Lukas nodded. He swept an arm behind him and the light went off. The blue light of the orb cast hard shadows across Lukas' face. Alfred thought he saw mirth in those indigo eyes.

Lighting a fire otot his palm, Lukas started down the slope to the Third Level. "Is this about the limbo?" Lukas asked over his shoulder.

Alfred had no idea what Lukas was talking and he told the latter that much. He seemed to be disappointed.

"Then, all this time you knew nothing?"

"I know that the Sorcerer's Guild never stopped investigating Arthur's disappearance, until the Council put a stop to it. Since then, I stopped receiving reports from the other sorcerers. I know about how Aracelly's tomb disappeared and the subsequent appearance of the stone slab along with the book. A switch. That's all I know. That tomb and the book came from another world. And Arthur was sent to that world."

"And you don't know which one."

Alfred pulled Lukas by the shoulder and turned him around. "What else do you know?" he demanded. He was determined to get answers from Lukas whether willingly or by force. The sorcerer didn't seem to be flustered, however.

Calm as ever, he pried Alfred's fingers from his dark robe. "I know what Saxa told me." Lukas continued down the slope, Alfred followed, resisting the urge to grab Lukas once again and shake him into giving a straight answer.

"Do you know which tribe Saza came from?"

It was obvious that Saxa was an Abrronzarzi from the Spadix. That fact cannot be hidden. It was unnecessary to ask anyone if they knew which nation Saxa came from. But if Lukas asked, then..."Are you saying she is one of the Red Priestesses?"

Lukas lips drew upward. "She is. Or, rather, she would be if she wasn't captured."

Alfred stared at the back of the Trohet sorcerer. He had always assumed him to be distant and cold, without any interest in anything outside magic. Alfred was beginning to see him in a new light. "Did you approach her? Or did she decided on her own to talk to you about her Gift?"

"Oh, she was the one who talked to me. Showed up at my doorstep in the middle of the night, just like you did. This was a very long time ago. Three Risings, maybe? She said she read the research on spatial dimensions and parallel universes, and came to the conclusion that we can help each other."

Alfred thought about all those times Saxa said she would go to the upper-world, and all those times when he went to check on her at night, she would be missing from her bed. "Then that is why she disappears from time to time. She travels to other worlds."

Lukas nodded. "Yes, she does. And while you were here doing leftover paperwork, keeping peace within House Esprit, and pleasing the Council, she has been shifting through different dimensions."

There was a sudden thud. It wasn't only until Lukas turned back that Alfred realized he had stopped walking, and that the loud thudding was his own heart beating. He wasn't aware of it's strong pulse until now. "Has she found him?"

There was a look in Lukas' eyes, a look like he was trying to smother his excitement with doubt of success, that sent gooseflesh up Alfred's back. "She knows where he is, yes."

Alfred thought that his lungs stopped working, and it wouldn't until after Arthur was back. "And?" he prompted Lukas.

The other man turned back toward the road again, setting a faster pace down the rocky ledge leading to the mouth of the caves. "We tried to talk to him from across the gate, so to speak. But there were unforeseen repercussions."

Alfred miss his footing. His right leg went off the ledge completely before Lukas dragged him back up. Alfred berated himself for his clumsiness. All the years he trained as a soldier, all the lessons he had to learn to be by Arthur's side would be for nothing if he got stupidly careless right now. One more second and Alfred would have slid off the cliff and plunged to his death. He barely got his breath back when it went out of him in a whoosh as Lukas slapped his face.

"You have been in a downward spiral for the past moons, Alfred. Now, it's time to stop. Do as you have always done and keep your head cool." Lukas heaved Alfred off the ground. "The state you are in, you are more likely to do harm than good."

o o o

As long as he had lived, Alfred only went to the Caves only three times. He had never been fond of the series of cliffs that dropped down to the lowest part of the Hold - the pit. The sight always reminded him of a giant's staircase, which added to the ominous atmosphere of the Caves. Therefore, he never set foot on the lower plateaus unless absolutely necessary. The first was when Prince Francis had found them on one of his trips to the pit of the Hold. Lord Arthur had since banned the prince from going back down again. The second time was when Arthur's fellow sorcerers went to collect samples from the gemstones growing out of the rough walls. After they had collected what they wanted, they rarely visited the tunnels. The third time he entered one of the tunnels, he was alone with Arthur. It was after the execution of Lady Kassidy. The nobles wanted audience with Arthur, but the House Head wanted nothing more than to be alone.

Alfred and his lord had walked down the ledge and across the stone bridge to the tunnels on the far side of the cliff. Neither of them talked then. Now, Alfred walked again on that same path to the bridge, silently following Lukas. It was clear that Lukas had been through this path numerous times, as he nimbly jumped over holes and avoided loose rocks.

Instead of crossing the bridge however, as Alfred expected they would, Lukas walked past it until he reached the end of the plateau where the dirt path ended with a gem-encrusted wall.

"Throw the light into the hole," Lukas said, pointing at the perfectly circular entrance at his feet.

Alfred crouched and gently rolled the light orb out of his hands. He watched as the ball plunged downward, right through the middle, lighting the smooth wall of the tube. When the light stopped moving, Alfred could hardly see a speck of it. "Only you and Lady Saxa know about this?"

"It was Saxa who found it. She only showed it to me when she demonstrated her power for me." Lukas waved a hand, urging Alfred closer to the edge of the hole. "You should go first. I expect you know how to control your landing?"

Manipulation was not Alfred's speciality; he uses his Gift as raw energy. But he nodded that he did know a little of manipulation. The diameter of the tube didn't allow much movement. The tight circle kept Alfred fall vertically straight. Beads of sweat formed quickly at his temples as the temperature rose. As the light below him grew brighter and brighter, Alfred thickened the air below him, slowing his descent. Unlike the caves Alfred had entered before, this tunnel was polished smooth, at least it was for a way.

Just as Alfred was brushing the light orb, Lukas dropped down from the tube, landing more smoothly than Alfred had. The added light from the flame in Lukas' palm lit the tunnel, which Alfred realized was a hall splitting into three tunnels. The ones to the left and the one in front of them were just as smooth as the walls that surrounded them. The third one at the right, however, was jagged. More curiously, Alfred could detect a faint ringing sound coming from inside.

"is that where Saxa is?"

"It is. This is her sanctuary."

o o o

The third tunnel was not how Alfred expected it to be. He didn't think the inside of it would be nothing but darkness. Even with the light orb in his hand, he would have been lost as soon as he entered if Saxa hadn't been holding his hand.

Lukas told him that Saxa would come and get them at the tunnel opening. They only had to wait for a few moments before Saxa suddenly materialized from the gloom of the tunnel and rushed to wrap her arms around Alfred. He placed his hand lightly on her back, letting her know that he was relieved to see her.

It was only as they arrived where they were walking at the moment that Alfred finally got to confirm his suspicion that the tunnel they had entered was just a small passageway. The pitch black hall it led to was wide enough for four of Matthew's bears to walk side by side, though it was only twice Alfred's height. Greenish holes, which Saxa had called windows, dotted the space occasionally in random places. Some were on the ground, which Saxa carefully avoided.

"Have you been here the whole time?" Alfred asked, eyeing the faint green light of the windows coming from the other end of the hall. "This is where you can 'watch over key places' that you mentioned in the letter."

Saxa nodded. Her face seemed to reflect Alfred's own; bag-eyed and a sickly pale. Tears glistened in her eyes. "Oh, Alfred. I've found him. I've found Arthur. But..." The rest of her words were muffled as she buried her face against alfred's chest. Alfred felt his knees weaken.

"What happened, my lady? How can I help?"

Saxa took hold of his hand and pulled him deeper and deeper into the darkness. "When that tomb suddenly appeared last moonrise, I thought I recognized it. I knew I saw something like that before. I wanted a closer look of it, but unfortunately it already turned to ashes when I went back to look. So I came here." She gestured vaguely at the greenish holes where Alfred could just see figures moving. "I looked for places where such tomb could be found. Then I remembered."

They stopped before a hole on the ground. Light dance on it, reflecting different colors on the shimmering ceiling. At first, Alfred only saw shadows scurrying on the surface. But as Saxa knelt close to the pool of light and submerged her hand in it, the image became clearer.

"Arthur." The sigh came out of Alfred's lips unexpectedly. He had been looking for so long that he couldn't help to allow himself to feel a little relieved. But he quickly held himself back, reminding himself that he still had to bring Arthur back. "He's asleep," Alfred commented, more to himself than anything.

Lukas cleared his throat, getting Alfred attention. Adjusting his robes, he lowered himself to the ground, opposite Alfred and Saxa. "Remember what I told you? That there were repercussions? When we tried to talk to Arthur thought the gate, it would not work because there was something wrong with his magic. In the world Arthur went, magic doesn't exists; Therefore, I can't contact him through it. In theory, bringing him closer to the gate would lessen the other world's hold on his magic, enabling me to talk to him."

"But what? What did you do?"

Saxa's hand found Alfred's, and she held it tight.

"I tried to pull Arthur back to this world, but something was holding tightly on the the other side. It was a miscalculation on my part. I thought if I pulled hard enough, I thought I could zip Arthur through the gate. But instead, the pull on both sides was too much, and the ropes that held Arthur - the one that binds him to the other world and the force I was pulling him with - it snapped."

Alfred looked at Arthur's face again, half hidden by a white pillow as he slept soundly. "Then where is he? Isn't he on some bed?"

"He is and he is not. Lord Arthur's body is still in the other world, but his consciousness is lost somewhere between that world and ours - in limbo."

Alfred lunged to grab Lukas' robe, but a wall of air stopped him inches from Lukas' face.

"Then where is he? Can you bring him back or not?"

Saxa pulled Alfred back by his shoulders. Alfred hardly felt her. He wanted to hit Lukas. He wanted to hit him for making matters worst. He wanted to him him for his 'miscalculation'.

"Alfred, please," Saxa was saying, calmly trying to push Alfred away from Lukas and the window. "It was my fault; not Lukas'."

"What?"

Saxa turned her eyes away, looking into the window, which had turned back to its greenish light.

"I wanted to get Arthur back as quickly as possible, you have to understand."

"I do. I want him to return soon as well."

"I don't think you completely understand, Knight Esprit," Lukas interjected. "The need to bring Arthur back to his world is not because of sentimental reasons. Even if no one wanted Arthur back here, we would still have to bring him back."

The comment stung, yet Alfred forced himself not to say anything. "What do you mean?"

"From what we have studied about other worlds, we gathered that there is a certain bond between the world and the beings who live there. No bond is the same as the other. In other words, you live and die in the world you are born in."

"If that is the rule, then why are there gates to other worlds? Why can Saxa travel through them? What are the gates here for?"

"No one ever said you can't travel. However, only people with the gift like Saxa are able to do so. The point here is that one cannot stay away to his home world for too long. You must always go back home."

Alfred looked at the windows around him. Behind each of those windows are worlds different from his own, each contains sights he'd never seen and will never see. There were so many worlds full of wonders and curiosities; so many things Arthur would love to explore. And he was in them at the moment. Would he want to come back to this dark, cold underground world he wished to escape from so many times?

"What happens if you don't come back?" As Alfred asked the question, deep inside him, he knew the answer; but that preconceived knowledge didn't prevent his blood turning to ice as he heard Lukas' answer.

Maybe, if it was only up to Alfred, he could consider the alternative. But this was not only about Arthur or himself. There was Saxa and Peter to think about, and the whole Esprit House. Arthur was one of the ambassadors that the Spadix and the Esrarli trusts; without him, tensions might once again rise between the upper-world and the under-world. Arthur was needed here, there was no denying that.

"Then, how do we get Arthur back? Can't I enter the window and pull Arthur out physically? without using magic?"

"No, you can't. The windows only show what is necessary for me to travel. Every window here is a path to the gates connecting our world to the others; the windows themselves are not the gates. They are just aides to navigate through all the different routes; a way to pinpoint exactly where you want to go. You visualize the kind of place where you want to travel to, and the window will show every place on the world it is connected with that matches the place you envisioned.

"This particular hole is the window connected to the gate to Earth. Now, Earth is a very large place, larger than Vecna Noc. To make travelling simpler, I can use the window to look for the place where tombs like the one that appeared here are seen. There would have been many matches, and searching for a person through the window is not possible but..."

"You knew where to look."

Saxa nodded. "Yes. I've been to Earth before."

Saxa once again placed her hand in the window. The window showed a wider perspective on Arthur and his surroundings. Arthur lay still, covered to his neck with sheets; his right arm though, stuck out of the side of the blanket and angled upward, as if someone was holding his hand. Alfred moved closer. Yes, it was there. Just at the edge of the window, where the image faded to green, Alfred could make out a part of a forearm. Most likely belonging to whoever was holding Arthur's hand. Arthur gestured for Saxa and Lukas to get closer.

"Do you see something there, at the edge?"

Both squinted at the place Alfred pointed at while Alfred felt his temperature rising. Then Saxa gasped.

Lukas stood up suddenly, pulling Alfred along with him. "Are you sure about it?" His eyes had an energy to it that Alfred never saw before, as if Lukas' idea was so bright that the light is leaking out of his eyes. "You need to be certain about this, Alfred."

Alfred nodded, hand going to his pin, eyes still on the scars on the anonymous forearm. "Yes. That is definitely Arthur's Mark."


	10. Welcome Back

Hetalia© Hidekaz Himaruya

* * *

><p>There were only two times Alfred experienced holding a dead body; first was when his grandmother died. He was six then and remembered only the coldness of mama Lora's hand. Second time was when Tony died. Like his grandmother, his dog died of old age. Alfred was in his teens then and unfortunately remembered everything. The third time, it was Jason who died. But Alfred didn't actually see his death. He was grateful for that; at least he didn't watch another friend die.<p>

Alfred wondered now if he had to witness death for the third time. Holding Arthur's cold hand in his, he thought that it was possible. _If you're going to leave at all, at least go back to your home._

It had been four days since Arthur went missing. At first Alfred thought, and as the days went on without a sight from Arthur even hoped, that he finally miraculously went back to his own world. But he couldn't shake the feeling he had that something was wrong, that it was too easy, and continued looking. He eventually asked Mathias and Gilbert for help in searching. The three of them had split up to search the whole eight blocks surrounding the house, but in the end, it was Matthew who found Arthur.

Alfred just had arrived at the house; Gilbert was already there, his face mirroring Alfred's disappointment. He suggested to call the police, but like Alfred did for the first two times, he rejected the suggestion. Just as Gilbert was about to get into an argument with Alfred as to why he's so stubborn not to call the police, Matthew, red-faced and panting, burst from the doorway carrying Arthur on his back. It chilled Alfred to see Arthur's condition; pale face, eyes and lips turning blue, totally unresponsive. Just like a corpse.

It was Gilbert who moved into action; taking off Arthur's weight from Mattie's back and laid him on the couch as Mattie fetched some blankets. Gilbert tired slapping Arthur awake, but to no avail.

"He's breathing, at least," Gil sighed in relief. "Where did you find him?"

Mattie looked up from his work of tucking Arthur in. His eyes went to Gilbert, then shifted to Alfred in concern. "The tree house. In the park. I took him there once, and he liked it. I thought he might've gone back. I found him on the floor. Fainted." Mattie reached out tenderly to brush the hair from Arthur's forehead, revealing a red bump.

Gilbert clicked his tongue, pulling out his phone, and barking an order at Alfred at the same time, "Get him a freaking ice pack! Alfred!"

Alfred had jumped out of his skin and did what Gil told him. It seemed like it was the only thing Alfred could do - woodenly following orders - the whole time Mattie and Gil tended to Arthur as the three of them waited for Jacques and the others to arrive. By the end of it, after Arthur was tucked into his bed and as Jacques examined him, Alfred was sent to his room. Of course, Francis said told the words gently, but Alfred got the message; the way he was shell-shocked, he was only getting in the way.

Late that night, however, Jacques came to Alfred's room. Alfred immediately thought the worst, and assumed that his uncle was there to tell him that it was too late. He wasn't that far off.

"I have no way of saying whether or not Arthur will be fine," he said bluntly. "We both know Arthur is from a different world; an ordinary fever in our world might mean death in his world."

"He has a fever?"

"No. Frankly, I didn't see anything wrong in his organs, so I have no idea what causes his low temperature. Of course, I can't say anything about the state of his brain given the lack of right equipment here." Jacques gave Alfred a meaningful look. "You still don't want to bring him to a hospital?"

Alfred bit his thumb. He'd be more at ease if Arthur were at a proper facility. But he knew, deep down, it wouldn't help. "That won't do anything. Besides, you said yourself, Arthur's different. Any tests you do might not mean anything."

Both of them were silent for a while. Jacques stared out the window, looking as if he was sorting his thoughts. Alfred burrowed himself deeper into his blankets as he waited for Jacques. His patience wasn't that long, though.

"So, how do you know about Arthur's world?" Alfred finally asked.

With a sigh, Jacques sat himself on Alfred's chair. "Where to start?" he murmured, rubbing his eyes. "The first time I've heard Vecna Noc was from Alisa."

"Mom?"

"When we were kids, she used to tell me a sort of fairy tale about a world without light. Apparently, it was a bedtime story your grandfather often told her. Well, of course, I thought it was only a story, until that trip to France. You can't believe how terrified I was when that woman suddenly came out from the shadows."

Alfred blinked. "Woman?"

Jacques nodded. "Saxa. I think she's Arthur's mother; they have the same eyes."

"So what happened?"

"Well, we heard rumors about a haunted cave; and naturally Alisa thought it would be a great idea to go caving there. Like the adventure-thirsty teenagers that we were, the rest of us thought it was a brilliant idea. Except Gerald, of course. He was reluctant; he only came because of your mom.

"Anyway, for the most part, nothing exciting happened until we decided to go back. We tried to spook each other as we climbed out of the cave to make up for the lack of excitement, but then Alisa took a wrong step and fell into a hole."

"What?" An image of his mother limping whenever the weather got cold popped in Alfred's mind. "Is that why her ankle is all weird?"

Jacques nodded calmly. "We were at a panic then. But then there was a green light from below. We heard Alisa talking; at first we thought she was talking to us, until she began sobbing. Then she stopped altogether." Jacques took a shuddering breath. "We assumed the worst. Your dad...I'm not going to tell you what happened next, except that, Alisa suddenly appeared behind us, carried by a woman with bronze-like skin and the greenest eyes I've ever seen.

"Alisa told us that as she fell, she passed through a green light; She told us that it was as if the light was strangling her. She blacked out afterwards. When she opened her eyes, she was being carried by Saxa toward us. We were confused, to say the least. It was only Alisa who was excited about Saxa. And Gerald was satisfied to have Alisa in his arms again. The four of us stayed at that cave for a while, listening to Saxa's stories, which eerily coincided with the story Alisa used to tell me."

"And you believed her? Just like that?"

Jacques raised one of his shoulders. "If Alisa told me that this other world named Vecna Noc is real, and that a woman named Saxa walked out of a portal and carried her to safety, I'd think she hit her head hard and would take her to the hospital, quickly. Seeing Saxa and hearing the words from her own mouth is different. For some reason, as I listened to her talk about her world, I didn't doubt it's existence. Besides, despite looking like an ordinary human, if I look closely at her, I saw that she wasn't. Something about her eyes."

Alfred understood what Jacques was talking about. When he stares at Arthur in the eyes, there was an uncomfortable feeling that seems to tell him that something was different with him. But that wasn't important right now.

"How did she come here? And how did she go back?"

"She called it her 'Gift'. She can travel between worlds whenever she wants. That green light we saw, remember? She called that the Gate."

Alfred's ears perked up. "A portal?"

"Yes, I suppose it is a portal. It's one of many gates scattered throughout Earth, according to her."

"Where is this cave?"

His uncle let out a long sigh, which made Alfred's heart sink. "It's underwater by now; submerged by the earthquake years ago."

_Just my luck. _"I bet you don't know where the other Gates are located?"

"If I knew, I would take you there myself. I'm sorry, Al."

"I know. And Mattie? How is he?"

Jacques' face seemed to droop even more. "He was shaken up when he found Arthur, but Francis is with him. You don't have to worry too much about Matthew; you should rest for now and catch up on the sleep you lost since Arthur went missing."

Alfred stared at his ceiling for hours after Jacques left. There was no way his uncle would make up a story like that, but still, it's just too much of a coincidence that his mom met Arthur's mom. Alfred never gave a second thought about fate, or destiny, but as he tried to drift to sleep, he wondered if he was meant to meet Arthur.

o o o

It was only the next day when it all sank in. Guilt and worry ate at Alfred the whole day at school. He lost count how many times someone had to shake him to get his attention back. All he could think of was Arthur. What happened to him? What will happen to him? He couldn't function properly and had to be sent home.

"I'm scared, Arthur," Alfred whispered now, placing the hand he held to his lips. "I don't know what to do. Don't die, Arthur. I'm really doing my best to send you back. I've read countless books these past few days, and I think I almost got it. So just hold on. Please?"

Alfred didn't expect an answer, but it still made his chest hurt when Arthur just stayed still. This is the worst. Nothing could be worse to know Arthur needed help yet being unable to do anything for him. Nothing could be worse to watch his chest rise and fall, not knowing if or when it's going to stop. Nothing was worse than knowing, fearing, that he can't make Arthur smile again. This was definitely the worst.

o o o

There was no pain now. There was only nothing. Arthur had never felt so weightless before, so unbound by duty, by time, and by life itself. Arthur tried to open his eyes, and realized that they were already open; they were never closed in the first place. No, that's not quite right. His eyes weren't open, rather he didn't have eyes; not really. He did have the sense of sight, and smell, and touch, and the rest; he didn't just have the organs that go with them. In this strange, blank space, only Arthur's consciousness existed.

Arthur felt neither cold nor hot. He was worried, however, about how he got here. He was just taking a walk in the park, watching the joggers pass by, and listening to the ducks squawking on the pond. He then decided to watch the scenery from the tree-house that Matthew had shown him before. He was by the window, just taking in the view, when the headache came. He had headaches before, this particular one was the worst of them. It felt to him as if his mind throbbed with the increasing beat of his heart as he came close to panic. His mind was pounding and pounding, until Arthur was convinced it would explode. Then there was nothing.

Arthur wondered just how much time, in terms of Earth, had he spent here in the blank space; he can't remember though. _How long, if I ever will, before I can get back?_

Just as soon as the sound of his thoughts vanished, another voice entered his world. If Arthur had a body, he would have had goosebumps. He knew that voice.

_Mother?_

_ Arthur? Arthur? You can hear me? _Her surprise was intense; and Arthur felt the warmth of her affections and her relief of hearing his voice. Arthur also detected a hint of urgency.

_I can hear you. More than that, actually. I can feel you. Where you? Where are we?_

Arthur felt his mother sigh. _Oh, Artie, I can't explain everything at the moment. It's dangerous to be here for very long. But we know how to pull you back to our world._

Arthur felt the same sensation again; the one similar to having goosebumps. Apparently, his mother could sense Arthur's emotions just as he could sense her.

_What's wrong, Arthur?_ Her tone was worried now.

_Nothing. What were you saying? You found a way to get me home?_

Her concern was still there, but she agreed to drop the topic. _Yes, Lukas and Alfred found a solution. Would you listen?_

Alfred. Arthur could have smiled at the mention of the name. But he quickly held back the emotion. _Of course._

_ At the moment, I am between the gates of our world and the world your body is in; a bridge, if you will. But, Artie, forgive me, but you fell from that bridge and are now in the chasm, so to speak. Because we tried to forcefully pull you back home, you are now trapped in limbo._

Trapped? Arthur felt the start of panic rise within him.

_Listen, Artie, _his mother quickly assured him. _Lukas has a plan to get you out. Now that you are in between worlds, I can communicate with you. So, listen carefully, and memorize every word. Recently, a strange book appeared, and in it Lukas found a summoning spell. This spell was also seen drawn on the tomb that also appeared shortly after the book. You are bound to someone there, aren't you?_

Jones. _That's true._

_ Lukas will replicate the same spell and enhance it, make it stronger. After that, Alfred will perform the spell._

_ Alfred? Did he volunteer for this?_

There was a pause.

_Yes, _she finally said. _He insisted._

_ Out of loyalty to the seat?_

A_rthur..._

_ Excuse me. I know, now is not the time. How does this spell work?_

_ It's a summoning spell with a binding spell attached to it, as you know. As I said earlier, Lukas will make the spell stronger; he'll create a greater pull on our side of the gate to drag you back home. These ties act like an elastic band, you see. We are hoping that if our pull is strong enough, the pull on the other side would snap. Of course, there is a chance that it won't. But Lukas assures that if that is the case, it won't matter much. You will be here, anchored to Alfred. This is what he came up with since he couldn't undo the tie that binds you to Earth._

_ And if both ties snap?_

His mother's silence answered Arthur's question. But what else could Arthur do? If he wanted to ever go back, then he had to face the risks.

_I understand. Then, do I have to do anything?_

_ Just one thing. If this requirement isn't met, the spell will not work. The timing and location are also important. This requirement must be fulfilled exactly at the same time as the spell is done; and it must be done in the place where the summoning originally took place. __In other words, it is like a reenactment of the original summoning._

_ Exactly like the original summoning?_

Arthur detected an uneasiness in his mother. That same uneasiness was also present in Arthur himself. _If it should happen exactly like the first summoning, then..._

A shock suddenly ran through Arthur, but he knew it was not because of his conversation with his mother. It came from outside. It was dull, as if a knock from outside the box; but he had no doubt that he felt it.

His mother was suddenly frantic. Her thoughts were at the brink of scattering.

_Mom? what is it?_

_ No, this isn't happening! Arthur, listen to me, you are being pulled back to Earth. When you go back, it might not be possible for us to contact you again. But you can't resist either. If you do, you'll be trapped here. Listen to my orders... _

The longer Arthur listened to his mother, the more he realized how serious the situation is was in. It was not like he took his case as a joke; he knew how grave it was from the start. But it never felt real to him before as it did now. For a while now Arthur felt like he stopped moving, but now, he was forced to hasten his pace.

There was another shock; this time, stronger. His mother was just finishing her instructions when a third shock came. Unlike the first two, this did not hurt, but it was somehow more intense. It was rather gentle, like a brush on the cheek. With it came a soft voice calling his name, a quiet, honest plea. Arthur began to feel heavy; his mother's voice was getting muffled. It was a sensation Arthur was familiar with; it happened to him once already, it was the feeling of his mind going back into his body. With a bit of an effort, Arthur said farewell to his mother. The last Arthur heard from her was a regretful apology.

o o o

Arthur awoke with a sudden gasp. The unpleasantness of the heaviness of his body and the constriction of being a part of the living world almost made him physically sick. Deep breaths, Arthur told himself. He closed his eyes for a time, letting himself get used to the physical world once again. As he calmed down and his sense sorted themselves out, Arthur noticed an extra weight on his stomach. He could smell the distinct minty scent of the shampoo Jones used.

_Jones._ Arthur glanced down at himself and saw Jones' face squished against his torso, his glasses uncomfortably twisted on the bridge of his nose. As Arthur pulled the glasses off, he noticed that Jones' eyes were rather puffy. _Had he been crying? _For some reason, the thought of Jones showing concern for him brought warmth and lightness to Arthur's chest. Arthur's hand was about halfway to Jones' shoulder when he stopped and instead, place his hand on his head.

"Wake up, Jones," Arthur murmured, fluffing his hair a bit. Jones moaned, sending vibrations to Arthur's stomach and tickling him. "H-hey, get up."

Jones' eyes slowly opened, hazy with sleep. But as Arthur smiled at him, they became instantly alert.

"Arthur?"

"Good morning," Arthur replied. Of course, he had no idea what time of day it was, or what day it was for that matter; he just thought that it was the right response.

Jones's eyes widened even more; tears began to form and fall down his cheeks. He bit his lips, which quivered as he tried to say "welcome back" properly. Arthur let out a small laugh at the child-like expression. That seemed to prompt Jones to speak.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry for avoiding you."

_So he really was avoiding me._

"I'm sorry that I played with things I don't understand," Jones continued. "I'm sorry it's taking this long to keep my promise to you."

Jones would have most likely go on and on apologizing if Arthur hadn't stopped him. On an impulse, Arthur ruffled Jones' hair again before motioning for him to make room for him to sit up.

"You don't have to apologize, Jones. Not for the last one, anyway." With a sigh, Arthur looked Jones in the eye. "I already know a way to get back home." Arthur expected to be happy as he said those words; it was what he wanted, after all. Surprisingly, there was a twinge of sadness in his words. Looking down at the ice pack that had fallen from his forehead onto his lap, Arthur shook his head slightly, trying to quiet his mind. He didn't need the heavy words of his mother running amok in his head at the moment. That time will come eventually.

"Y-you do? Really?"

Involuntarily, Arthur's eyes opened and slid back to Jones' face. It was unlikely, but Arthur almost heard the same melancholic tone in Jones' voice. Watching the latter's face closely, Arthur told him what happened to him; how he needed a walk, why he fainted, and what his mother had told him; half of it, anyway.

"You've been doing your best, Jones, I know you have," Arthur said as he finished his tale, "You don't have to worry anymore; It's almost over."

An odd look came to Jones' face as he whispered, "Almost over, huh?" Then he chuckled, and flashed a big smile that Arthur had long ago associated with Jones. "But not quite, right?"

Arthur couldn't help but return the smile, although he imagined, his looked sadder. "Not quite."

With a sigh, Jones slid off the bed. "So, what are we supposed to do now?" he asked in the middle of stretching his back and limbs.

_How long had he been sitting with me?_

"Is there anything I could do?" Jones asked, cracking his neck. Arthur wondered whether he should be worried at the number of cracks he was hearing from Jones.

"There are still a lot of things to be done."

Noticing his own muscles were stiff, Arthur threw the sheets that have been covering him and decided to follow Jones' example. But before he could fully stand, a wave of nausea forced him to sit back down.

"Easy. You've been out for two days." Jones was instantly beside him, guiding his head back on the pillow. "I guess there are still some things I could do for you, even if I failed at the most important one," Jones mumbled.

"Oh, Jones, you did not fail. It's not over yet, remember? We still have two months to wait; two months for you to teach me everything possible about your world. And of course, you have to escort me to the end. Can you stand by me till the end?"

Arthur said those words playfully, meant it to lighten the atmosphere a bit. Which is why Arthur didn't expect Jones' to take his face in his hands, look him dead in the eye as the words "You know I will" flowed out of his mouth; light as a summer's breeze, but with all it's unwavering heat. It froze Arthur to the bed, and sent a chill through his body. He could only stare back at Jones' sincere eyes as the latter smiled at him.

Arthur had to swallow thrice to make his throat work again. Jones, thinking Arthur's throat clearing as a sign of discomfort, drew back, scratching his nose and laughing nervously. "Well, I better let the other's know you're awake; Jacques will want to check up on you."

Taking the the ice pack cast aside on the bed along with him, Jones bounced his way to the stairs. A few more steps and he would reach the balcony and be gone. Jones' upper body was now hidden by the wall; if Arthur wanted to say it, now would be the time.

"Wait a moment!"

Jones jolted to a stop then moved down a step, bending over the rails to peek at Arthur. "What?"

Arthur fixed his eyes on Jones, showing his gratitude with the same sincerity as Jones' had given him. He waited for Jones' face to grow serious as well, making sure he understood what Arthur was going to say. Taking a deep breath, Arthur opened his mouth and spoke with the clearest voice he could muster: "Thank you."

It had been a while since the last time those words came out of his mouth; not with such fervor as it did now. There was no gratitude or acts of kindness in being House Head; only prerogatives and obligations. Arthur was glad to know that he hadn't forgotten how to feel. "Thank you," he repeated.

Wide-eyed and appearing a little flushed and surprised, Alfred stuttered a short "Welcome" before dashing up to the kitchen.

And then Arthur started laughing.

_What a face to make! And I thought he'd be avoiding me forever. Oh, how I've missed your usual self, Jones. Welcome back._


End file.
